Sixteen Again
by societysnerd
Summary: She's 16 again, and in the arms of her girlfriend, life is perfect. But something happens, causing their perfect world to come crashing down around them and Maura's not sure whether she'll ever forgive herself for it. But at 32, she's determined to find the woman that disappeared out of her life without a second glance, get answers to her questions, and hopefully something more...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Rizzoli and Isles except for the parts in this story which belongs to me.**

**This came to me suddenly today and I found that I just had to write it, if only to not forget it.**

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Chapter 1

_She's sixteen again and lying in her girlfriend's arms in the middle of Boston Common, her head over her heart as she points out the colombous clouds above and goes into her rendition of their formation. She lifts her head as if to check that her girlfriend is listening but instead she's met by warm brown eyes and a kiss to her temple and she knows. She knows that Jane will listen to anything and everything she has to say simply because it's Maura who's saying it. She lays her head back down to continue her fact-spouting. And the girl below her simply hugs her closer and smiles. _

_Because as long as Maura's happy, she's happy too._

* * *

Maura comes to a screeching halt in her car, her mind torn out of her reverie as she takes in her surroundings and the beating of her heart.

Over a decade later, she's back in Boston, but it's not all sunny clouds and green grass and Jane next to her side. It's a dark autumn night and she's just come from the office that she's just begun to put in order after having being appointed as Chief ME and the rain is whipping down in torrents around her. But it the person in front of her car that takes her breath away. The hooded figure whose only indication that they are not one with the darkness are the white bandages wrapped around their palms and they're furious at the fact that they've nearly been run over. Their body stance and flailing arms tell Maura as much. The person goes to slam their hands on the ME's car bonnet but quickly comes to the realization only inches before they make contact that it probably isn't the wisest idea and thinks better of it, instead shouting some indecipherable words Maura can't hear within the safe confines of her car and aiming a sneaker-ed foot at the bumper before allowing the darkness to swallow them once again. And with that they are gone, taking the newly-appointed ME's astonishment with them.

But somewhere, deep within Maura's temporal lobes, she is digging for a memory while at the same time her brain is reminding her to breathe. Because even though the figure before her had had a hood over their head, and had been dressed in black, she'd recognize that lanky form, the curls peeking out from under their hood and those dark orbs anywhere. And she's sure beyond a doubt that they belong to one Jane Rizzoli.


	2. Chapter 2

**I know my first chapter was like the shortest thing ever and you're all probably dying for more. So here's the second. **

**Enjoy! :)**

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Chapter 2

The first few weeks of the new job had gone by without a hitch for Maura. In between calculating the cause of death for the people brought into her morgue and attempting to bring them some form of justice however small and regardless of how they're not around to care anymore, the majority of her musings have remained on that fateful night she nearly ran over the stranger. Except, she can't get over the fact that they weren't strangers. She's convinced that the person she saw was Jane.

And she's determined to find her.

Because despite the accolades and travelling and work she has done in order to both enhance and advance her career, there's a reason why she's never settled in one place for very long. And it's because of Jane. The only person who has ever held the key to her heart. But sixteen years ago, Jane disappeared on her, and she could never quite bring herself back to Boston till now.

It had been time to stop running.

From the past.

_You have to start somewhere in order to fit the pieces together._

The words from long ago reverberated in her mind. The day after she'd seen Jane, or at least, the person whom she thought to be the brunette, she had walked through the doors of BPD, her mind swimming. She saw Jane. She's sure it was Jane. And now, all she's left with is how on earth she's going to find her. The only problem is, she has no idea where to start. Her brief sighting has conjured all sorts of ideas in her mind as to what had happened to Jane. But she doesn't know where to begin looking.

Recalling the bandaged hands, she had played around with the idea of using her medical connections to find out if any one of the people she knew had treated, or heard someone who had treated another as a result of hand injuries sustained but apart from that small thing called patient-doctor confidentiality, she would be playing with fire, and likely end up losing her medical license, and where would she be then? She'd have less than what she started out with, that's where. And she still wouldn't have Jane.

Drawn by curiosity, she had driven herself to Jane's old house, almost on autopilot, startling herself as to how she had come to be there. Having realised her location, she had gotten out of the car, made her way up the path before promptly turning back the way she had come and getting back in. It was just as well, because not a second later, an SUV had drawn up. Its occupants got out and Maura breathed a sigh of relief as she saw they weren't the Rizzolis. Which only put her back at square one.

_Perhaps a private investigator would be good_, she mused as she carefully took out each and every organ to weigh. Till she realised all she had was her name, age and date of birth. No social security number, no clue as to her address, her workplace, nothing. Still, it was better than doing nothing. It may takes weeks, months before the PI turned up anything but given how long she had waited to find her, to come back home, she figured it would be worth it. After all, what were a few more months if she were to get answers to her questions, if she were to be able to put her racing heart at ease.

She took out the man's liver, examining it from every viewpoint before concluding it was perfectly healthy for someone who was 45 years old. She placed it in the scale noting its weight and picked it up again intent on placing the organ back in its rightful place when the doors to her morgue opened and in came Detective Korsak with a very familiar looking man following behind. She observed the slight greenish hue that was starting to replace his dark skin tone, the suit that fit snugly around his body before her eyes traveled back up again to his face, clearer now that he wasn't being blocked. And for the second time since she'd come back, she found the past hitting her full force again. Because stood in front of her, was Barry Frost, Jane's best friend and confidant. Or at least, he had been. She stood there, mouth open, liver in hand and saw she was doing no favors for herself as Korsak stood there eyeing her quizzically. She didn't doubt she looked a strange sight, mouth open, liver in hand. In fact, she was surprised to still be holding the poor man's liver, so in shock she had been that she was sure she would have dropped it had she not had such a firm grip on it. He hadn't made eye contact with her yet, instead choosing to take in his surroundings albeit, somewhat uncertainly. She held back a giggle as the memory of Frost fainting when he saw the blood oozing from his knee came to her.

So, he was a detective now..?

With quickness and precision, she put the liver back, covered the body temporarily and snapped off her gloves.

"Detective Korsak," she greeted.

"Doc. Hope we haven't come at a bad time?"

"Not at all. What can I do for you?"

He glanced behind him and tried not to roll his eyes. Jesus, if the kid couldn't even stomach a morgue, there was no way he'd do well at a crime scene, he thought. "This here's Detective..."

"Barry Frost." she finished for him. His eyes widened as he realised the two knew each other. He moved aside giving Maura full view of the kid as she stepped forward. "Starts in homicide come Monday." The man finally looked at her and squinted before it hit him. His expression lit up.

"Maura?" She held out her hand in greeting but was instead scooped up in a full fledged embrace. She squeaked a little having been unprepared for the hug.

Korsak grinned at the astonished look that graced the ME's face. He'd never taking her for a hugging kind of gal. Now, he'd been proved right. Seems his detective skills weren't too out of shape then but never being one for avoidance, he got to it. "I take it you two know each other." Frost released the blonde blushing slightly. He'd never been so grateful to see a familiar face in his life. He grinned sheepishly.

"Sort of yeah." Maura looked down smoothing the invisible wrinkles from the dress that was hidden beneath her lab coat. Frost smirked to himself, permitting himself a small, albeit brief eye roll. Some things never changed.

"Years ago."

Doing a quick calculation in his head, he said, "It's only been what, sixteen or so years?"

"That is correct."

"You shoulda kept in touch." He held back the urge to punch her in the shoulder, remembering that even when Jane had been around, Maura had never totally been one of the guys. Not in that way. No. The blonde had been pure class in comparison to the little 'leftover' group.

The ME looked down at her shoes willing the sudden sadness that overcame her away as she recalled with blinding clarity, the main purpose for her return. The person _for whom_ she had returned. She swallowed. "I couldn't." _Not after Jane._

They both knew what she meant. Korsak looked between the two of them as they shared their own private moment, thoughts of the past running between them. He cleared his throat and they both jumped having forgotten he was in the room.

"Not to interrupt or anything, but if you'd like I can show you around the rest of BPD, introduce you to some of the others, show you the cafe, the break room..." He paused for a minute as he thought about the gunk they kept upstairs called coffee. Frost, eager to meet some of his fellow colleagues and get a feel for the place in general, the atmosphere. He had yet to meet his new partner. The two of them headed out as Korsak called out a "see you later, doc" over his shoulder. Understanding that the conversation had come to an end, Maura headed back over to the body and was just in the process of putting on a new pair of gloves when her morgue door opened once again.

"Hey, Maura?" She turned to find Frost's head poked round the door. "You wouldn't like to get lunch or something today, would you? Be good to catch up." He looked at her hopefully.

"Lunch would be perfect." Happy with her response, he grinned.

"12 o'clock at the cafe upstairs? I'll try not to be late but this place is a maze."

She grinned, nodding her head in response and he popped back out, watching as he turned to the right.

"Other way," she called out, as he headed in the wrong direction. "Unless, of course you're wanting to see more of the morgue." She shook her head chuckling a little at the quick one eighty he did, tripping over his feet in the process, and looking ever so slightly more green if it were possible. Giving her a thumbs up in thanks, he quickly dashed in the direction of the elevator where Korsak was waiting.

Her last thought before she got back to her examination was, _he always did have a terrible sense of direction..._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_She's sixteen again and sitting in the school cafeteria with her salad and juice waiting for Jane when her girlfriend makes an appearance and plops a tray down on the table consisting of a greasy burger and fries, and Maura gives her a pointed look. Despite the number of times Maura has informed her of the health ramifications of eating such food, she persists nonetheless and Maura can't help but be amazed at how the girl before her never seems to gain a pound. Seeing the look, Jane just grins, sits down and takes a big bite letting out a satisfied moan, and Maura can't help the shiver that runs down her spine hearing it. And so, she tries to disguise it by stabbing her fork into the leaves on her plate. But she should have known that Jane would never have missed it because when she looks back up, she's sporting a shit-eating grin and her eyes are twinkling with knowledge and mirth. But Maura's determined not to be outdone and so her hand snakes out to quickly pinch a fry from her girlfriend's plate, and she guides it towards her mouth making sure to twist her tongue round the morsel of fried potato closing her eyes as the taste of it explodes within. Apart from Jane and the feelings that course through her whenever she's near or with the brunette, it's her one sin. But then she opens her eyes to see Jane gazing at her wearing a feral expression and she falters for a moment as she watches her lick her lips, and before she knows it, she's being pulled out of the cafeteria by her girlfriend, food long forgotten, the menu soon to be changed._

* * *

Maura sits in the cafe at a table off to the corner, salad in front of her recalling that day with fondness as she awaits Frost's appearance. The only change to the meal before her being a steaming mug of coffee rather than a bottle of juice. She's all grown up now and it strikes her with force. No longer is she that sixteen year old girl pinching fries off her girlfriend's plate, no longer is she with Jane. But even as an adult, she's still got that same amount of determination and she's determined to find the brunette. And while she's glad to see her old friend, she can't help that spark of hope that she will get that much needed help from him when she tells him she wants to find her because she knows he won't refuse.

As she looks up, she sees Barry Frost slip through the cafe doors and she gives him a wave indicating that he should join the line before it gets any longer and purchase his food. A couple of minutes later, he's sat in front of her, sandwich and coffee in front, and he happily digs in as he mumbles out a greeting in response whilst she takes a stab at her own lunch.

"So how's your first day at BPD been so far?"

Frost nods as he swallows his bite of food. "Good. Good." He briefly glanced at the ceiling. "I have yet to come to a conclusion about the work itself though."

"You weren't from homicide before?" It's clear that she's surprised but Frost merely grins, raising a critical eyebrow.

"Seriously, Maura?"

And it's the tone, the body language, the raised brow and the eyes twinkling with humor that takes her back sixteen years, but instead of Frost sitting opposite her, it's Jane, the only difference being that the brunette's catch phrase is 'really'' rather than 'seriously', but the man in front of her doesn't seem to notice that he's caught her off guard, and so, she ends up taking a flying dive back to Earth as he elaborates.

"I was with Robbery before I moved into homicide." he said. "At a different precinct though. Down at the south end."

"So it's kind of like a promotion."

"Of sorts," he agrees but then grimaces as he thinks about the type of first day he's had. "I'm not sure it's necessarily the right one." She raises an eyebrow at this, knowing all too well his issues with blood and gore. He can't even watch a horror movie without puking his guts out.

"Immersion therapy," she states knowledgeably.

"Immersion what?"

She repeats the treatment words without hesitation, eager at the prospect of imparting one of her little 'factoids' as Jane had called them all those years ago. "Immersion therapy. It's a pyschological technique which allows a person to face their fears by confronting them head on, by placing them directly in the situation they so fear." She looks over to see him grinning from ear to ear and she begins to feel uncomfortable with the stare he's giving her. "What?"

"Maura Isles, you haven't changed a bit." He said, reaching over to give her hand a friendly squeeze, which she returns wholeheartedly. They eat for a while in pleasant silence before Maura eventually breaks, the question on the tip of her tongue dying to be released from the confines of her mouth and thoughts.

"Do you ever think about her?" He considers the question for a while trying to determine the reason behind it before he nods in response. She takes a last stab at her food but she's no longer hungry and so, it remains untouched on her plate. "I left. After BCU. I waited. But she never came." He knows, without doubt, the period to which she refers. But he can see she wants to say more so he lets her continue. "I traveled for a while, always searching, always hoping, that one day she'd find me, or I her. But I never did. So, here I am sixteen years later, back in the city we both ran from...and I want to find her...

...And I'm hoping you'll help me." As her words fall into place, it suddenly clicks, and it occurs to him that she doesn't know, so his approach is awkward.

"Maura..." As she meets his gaze, he sees the turmoil in her eyes; the hurt, suffering, pain, desperation, distress. But at the forefront, he sees hope...and love. But he's not surprised. Even when they were sixteen, he can remember himself thinking that if there ever were a couple who belonged together and who would end up together, it would be them. And it is this that spurs him on, and he grasps her hand lightly in support. "She's here, Maura. She's in Boston." And as understanding dawns in her eyes, he continues.

"She's the reason I got into homicide, Maura. She's my new partner."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_She's sixteen again and the two of them are at the playground, and they're both lying on the roundabout, head to head, with Jane at one side and Maura at the other, as if they've drawn the halfway line in the red object. And they're looking up at the stars with Maura discussing how she's always dreamed of exploring the universe and the depths behind it. They don't speak for a while, happy to just enjoy each other's presence. But then Jane being Jane, she sits up because she's never been able to sit still for long and before she knows it, she's being spun on the roundabout, and Maura shrieks with laughter telling her to stop. And she does. And when it stops, all Maura can see are stars rotating round and round, colliding with one another, making up one big supernova. So she closes her eyes, willing the momentum to stop, and when she opens them again, she sees Jane standing over her, peering at her with concern and suddenly, she realizes she doesn't need to go up to space to find out what it's like. She's got her universe right where she wants it, and it's in the form of the brunette watching her. And so she links her arms around her neck, pulling her down for a kiss, and as their lips touch and her eyes close, she sees stars, blinding and flashing all at the same time. And she needn't look any further. Because she's got her supernova. _

* * *

Maura sits in the sanctuary of her own home, glass of wine in hand, as her mind wanders to the conversation she had with her old friend earlier in the day, and she doesn't know whether to feel relieved that the brunette's okay and is right in Boston where she wants her, or angry that she's never come forth. She realizes of course, that the latter is a ridiculous feeling to have. After all, how was Jane to know she was back? And she thinks back to the things Barry told her, what little about her he knew. But the part that strikes her over and over again is the fact that Jane's on medical leave and the horrendous things she had had done to her at the hands of Charles Hoyt. It pains her to think that she's had to go through this torture, and also re-live her own. Because she knows that Jane is never one to forget. And in a way, it explains the bandaged hands she witnessed that night, and she wants nothing more than to go back in time, to get out of her car amidst the torrential downpour and take those hands in hers. But as the past has taught her, one can never go back, one can never change time.

She swirls the wine in her glass thoughtfully, as she thinks back to the grounds upon which they parted.

_"I want to see her." _

_Frost winced in the knowledge of two things. The first being that he was going to be so screwed if BPD ever found he had hacked into their personnel records in order to obtain Jane's address, and two, being that, not even Jane knew who her new partner was, and so to be faced with not one, but two blasts from your past was going to be anything but pleasant. _

_He'd heard the stories. Of course he had. There was no one within BPD who didn't know who Jane Rizzoli was. She was a force to be reckoned with. Driven, and determined, with a tongue and sarcasm that made even grown men cry (and apparently, some had witnessed it to be so), she had made her way up the ranks eventually breaking into homicide where she was not only the youngest person to ever make detective, nor the only female detective but she was also the only one with the highest closure rate in the whole of the department, outwitting even the most seasoned of detectives. Some welcomed her, some despised her, but all held a grudging respect for her. He'd be lying if he didn't say he was more than a bit nervous at the reaction he would receive despite her having gotten in contact with him. _

_Once. _

_Once, and that had been it. _

_One measly letter, telling him she was alright and she hoped he was doing okay, and perhaps, if fate would have it, they'd meet up again one day. _

_"Okay," he agreed, leaving her with a promise that he would at least find out where she lived and let her know._

And so, with that promise in hand, Maura was now left waiting...and wondering...

...if there were better things to come...


	5. Chapter 5

**Apologies for the late upload. I know I usually give you guys a chapter a day so I owe you one! I reviewed and deleted this chapter so many times over the last few days but I finally got it the way I wanted it to be. So, without further ado, I leave you with chapter 5. **

**Enjoy, all my readers! (and as always, you're reviews/opinons are always welcomed****)**

**:)**

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Chapter 5

_You're sixteen again and you're lying on your bed surrounded by the darkness of your room when you hear the doorbell, and then voices. But one of the voices becomes overcome by sobbing, and the other, the one of your mother, sounds ever so slightly panicked and lost because comfort is something she's new to, it's something Jane has only just shown her, introduced her to. But then, you hear your name being called and so you exit the confines of you're room to be greeted by the sight of two women standing in the foyer; one has their arm round the other. And though you can hear them speaking, you do not register what comes after because all you hear are the words 'she's gone, she's missing'. Instead, you tune out and you're world starts spinning and before you know it, the darkness has engulfed you and you feel yourself falling. Falling through the black hole you can feel your life becoming. And then suddenly, you're feet are on solid ground but you don't know how you came to be here but you've been in this situation before, surrounded by the darkness. That much you do know. And you don't know where you are. _

_So you run._

_Your feet pound the pavement, hitting the ground, stroke for solid stroke. Or at least, you believe it to be the pavement. You have no idea because you can't see the ground below you and all you're concentrating on is on putting one foot after the other. And while you run, you're searching, searching for something; a way out, a person...something. But no matter which direction you run, you can't seem to find it. It's elusive like the night. So you stop, and the world turns with you as you rotate round and round, pivoting on one spot, desperately calling out. Asking for help. _

_And usually, you get no response. _

_But this time there's something different; the flash of a figure. And you gasp. And before you know it, you're off again, running towards it. But every time you come within grasping position, it's gone, disappeared into thin air before you see it again in another corner of blanketed darkness, and chase after the person again but every time, they dissipate into thin air. And you're getting desperate now, and ever so slightly frustrated, and the emotions you feel only grow with every hand that reaches out and misses, and before you know it, there are tears streaming down your face, and it's your voice calling out a name. Her name. But she never responds, and that worries you. It terrifies you. Because you are the cause of it all. _

_You are the reason why she runs. _

_You are the reason why she never lets you catch her. _

_Because of one stupid mistake. But you want to catch her. You want her to stop running. You want to stand there and apologize. You want to go down on your knees and beg her forgiveness. And you're afraid. You're afraid that despite the hope that lingers in the air every time you get a step closer, there's fear too. Fear that she doesn't want to see you, doesn't even want to know you. And that no matter how close you get, it'll never be enough._

Maura bolted up, eyes wide, desperate and fearful, sweat dripping, lungs gasping for that tiny morsel of air as her heart pounded wildly. She looked around taking in her surroundings before realizing she was within the confines and safety of her own home. She looked down realizing that at some point earlier in the night, she had fallen asleep on the couch and she winced taking note of the crick she had in her neck and lower back. Gingerly, she did some gentle stretches before plopping herself back down rather ungracefully for a woman of her upbringing and stature. Placing an arm over her eyes, she reflected on the dream she had just had.

For sixteen years, she's had the same dream, the same recurring dream. Except this time, it was different. This time, she could see brief flashes of what she had been chasing after when before, it had only been darkness.

And she knows why it's changed.

It's because of Jane, and how close she's getting to finding her. That figure, can only be the brunette because no one else has haunted Maura's dreams for the last sixteen years. She's brought out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone buzzing from where it slipped from her grasp onto the floor. It's a reminder telling her that she's received a message so she opens it up only to find that it was from Barry Frost and had been sent late last night. The poor man must have stayed behind to catch up on paperwork. And all it reads is:

Apartment 12A

Albany Street

And her breath catches because she's finally got her link to Jane. And she wonders, for a moment, whether the dream she just had was more than a coincidence, or whether it was her brain's way of telling her that her dreams were finally becoming reality. Quickly, she glanced at her phone to check the time. 5.02am. And though she knows it's too early to go knocking on the brunette's door because she remembers how much the girl she once knew loved her sleep, she also knows, with unfailing certainty, that there is no way she'll be able to go back to sleep. Not with this knowledge in the palm of her hand. And so curiosity gets the better of her, and before she knows it, she is on her laptop, clicking on Google to find directions. Because she also knows that she can't wait to see her. Not after sixteen years. And for second time that morning, Maura lets out another gasp. But instead of it being one of anguish and desperation, it's one of trepidation and feeling, because there on the map, shows just how close she's been to the brunette in the time she's been back. Seven minutes. That's all it will take. Seven minutes from BPD to where Jane lives now. Ten minutes give or take if she were to go from her home to Jane's.

She's practically been within her grasp.

And the excitement within Maura is mounting, and she can't wait for father time to quickly move his hands to something of a more civilized hour. But even as she's planning the trip to the brunette's, she's more than aware that there is a chance that she may not be welcomed at all. And she doesn't know what she'll do if that happens. Because if the brunette turns her away, it just may end up breaking her. And she's not sure she could go through it a second time when she had barely survived the first. And so, for the first time in a long time, she finds herself second guessing herself, taking what little she knows about the brunette, what she's been through, the person she was when they were together, the past that they shared, and compartmentalizing it all in order to sift through it, and decide on the best course of action. But she's jostled out of her thoughts and conflicting emotions by the sound of her phone once again and she glances at it only to realize that there's been a murder because it's dispatch calling.

_People couldn't just put their death on hold just for one day, could they?_

And so, she answers, promising to get there as soon as she can before hanging up. Noting that there was no possible way she could turn up at a crime scene the way she looked, dressed in simply yoga pants and a t-shirt, she heads upstairs to get showered and changed, her thoughts still focused on the woman in question. And while there's disappointment that she won't be able to see the brunette just yet, there's a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that tells her, perhaps it's best to prepare and think about how she's going to approach the woman rather than going in all guns blazing. After what little she's heard about Jane and all that she remembers of her, she knows it is probably wise to proceed cautiously, no matter how much she just wants to fling her arms around her, to feel her, to know she's still with her, assure herself that she's there. Because it's been sixteen years, and they've both changed.

And so, despite the fact that someone's just died, a part of her is relieved that her mind will have something else to mull over other than the brunette, just as another part of her knows their time will come.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_She's sixteen again and she's standing on the stoop of her girlfriend's home and she can't help the tingle that runs all the way down to her toes when she thinks of her as her girlfriend. And she marvels at the easy transition they've made from friends to best friends to girlfriends. It came so naturally and felt so right. And she wants to shout it out from the rooftops that the brunette is hers. But Jane's Catholic, and her parents are devoutly Catholic, so she understands her need to keep it quiet for now, though as she told Maura, she's not adverse to her own parents as well as Frankie knowing. And having told both her parents, she's more than overjoyed at the fact that both Constance and Richard were more than happy to accept her into the family. After all, it was from her they learnt to show care and love. She is the reason the blonde feels closer to her parents. But as much joy as it gives her to think of the brunette as hers and as thankful and grateful as she is to her for bringing her own family together, she's worried too, for every time she visits the Rizzoli household from here on out, she's terrified she won't be able to keep their relationship a secret because she can't lie, or doing something like grabbing the brunette's hand or even looking at her in a way that will raise suspicion. And as much as she loves Angela and the rest of the Rizzoli's for how they took her in and accepted her into their family with such ease, there are times when she wishes that the home weren't so full because at times like these, standing on her girlfriend's front porch, she just wants to be taken into the brunette's arms away from prying eyes and reassured that everything will be okay. But then the door opens, effectively bringing her out of her trance, and standing beyond the threshold is none other than Jane herself gazing at her adoringly, and Maura knows. She knows she doesn't need to feel her arms around her to feel how much she loves her. Just the fact that she's there by her side standing strong is enough. _

_Because if there's one thing Jane'll never do, it's let her fall._

* * *

Maura sat in her car fiddling with the ring that sat on her right hand. It was a nervous habit she had picked up from her mother, and one she had never completely been able to still. She'd been sitting in her car for the best part of an hour, trying to draw the courage to go up those stairs and knock on the apartment door, but so far, she hadn't quite managed it. Now that she was so close to the prize, she didn't quite know what to do, or how to handle it, such were the countless scenarios she had imagined happening. For example, she could quite well imagine Jane slamming the door in her face, or her getting to the door and knocking before running back down like a child playing a prank on the neighborhood's recluse.

_This is stupid. I'm a grown woman for gods sake! And it's just Jane..._

And that was the problem. Because it wasn't the fact that she was _just_ Jane. It was that she _was_ Jane. The one and _only_ person she had been thinking about and hadn't been able to get out of her mind for the past sixteen years. And that just made it all the more difficult, all the more worrisome, and yet, all the more perfect at the same time.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of her car and made her way up the front steps before she was faced with a scenario she had never figured upon in the lead up to where she was now.

_How would she get in?_

The building was clearly electronically guarded, allowing only those who were buzzed in to come up. But by some twist of luck, the door opened and a young man absorbed in both the music playing in his hears at deafening volumes and his phone exited, allowing Maura the opportunity to slip in past him. And when the door closed behind her, she pressed herself up against the wall in relief, the racing of her heart not going unnoticed by the blonde. She felt like some sort of covert spy.

Feeling her heartbeat go back to normal, she made the decision to climb the four flights, choosing not to take the cranky looking elevator if only to pace and prepare, only to arrive outside the brunette's door minutes sooner than she had expected. And suddenly, she's standing in front of a brown wooden door with the number 12A. She listened for a moment to ensure she was not disturbing anything before raising her fist to rap on the hard wood. The sound as her fist made contact startled her momentarily but she's only met with silence. She tries once more, for good measure and just to be sure. Louder. Firmer. More persistent this time. And then she hears it.

Shuffling.

From somewhere inside the apartment.

And then, a low raspy voice, grumbling to no one in particular, and just as it did sixteen years ago, that voice still manages to send shivers down her spine. And she's barely had time to prepare, to think about what she's going to say, because she's had an hour to do so and she had come up with a dozen different ways of greeting, all of which fell inadequately short even to her own ears, when the sound of locks being drawn back pierces her consciousness and then the door opens. And standing there slightly stupefied, and ever so amazingly calm as she gets her first glance of the brunette after sixteen long years, and the only thing that pops to mind is,

"Hello, Jane."


	7. Chapter 7

**New chapter guys! Lovin' the reviews! :)**

* * *

Chapter 7

_"Hello, Jane."_

For a person she hasn't seen in sixteen years, the brunette for all accounts and appearances, seemed to be holding herself quite well, unless one were to take into account the color that had drained from her face and the drop of the jaw that made her look as if she had just seen a ghost. But Maura knew all too well the sudden shock and surprise that's graced her features because she's feeling it too. Only, she's had about two days and eleven and a half hours to prepare and school her features into one of neutrality but it doesn't stop her legs from turning to jelly or the butterflies that flit deep within her belly, or the breath that escapes from her lungs, the moment she sets eyes on that beautifully chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and deep brown eyes. If anything, the brunette before her seemed to have gotten better with age, much like a fine scotch. They stood looking at each other as time slowly ticked away.

"May I come in?"

The words seem to rouse the brunette from her stupor and she shuffled to the side without saying a word; a silent indication for her to enter, or more positively put, that she was welcome. She let out the breath she had effectively been holding.

Stepping inside the confines of the other woman's home, she somehow managed to suppress the smile that almost graced her features, not wanting to put the brunette's defenses up before she's even had the chance to start. It exactly as she's imagined it to be. Warm, with it's earthly undertones. Not cluttered in any form at all but rather, containing the necessities. It was the piano in the corner however, that took her breath away. Internally, she wondered if the brunette still played, given what had happened to her, but she put the thought aside, not wanting to question for now. It could keep for another time.

"You have a lovely home," she said, opting to start on neutral ground. The brunette said nothing, choosing instead to brush past her where she made her way into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Maura followed, and watched silently as she struggled to take the cap. Noticing that she was now rid of the bandages that had once encased her palms, a part of her wondered whether she was on pain medication, and whether in turn, she should in fact be drinking. But then she remembered Jane's tolerance for pain, and lack thereof patience for doctors and hospitals back when she had gotten into all sorts of scrapes and tumbles, and so she quietly dismisses the question that's on the tip of her tongue. She also recalls however, how she used to say Maura was her very own doctor and how she didn't need any other, and it creates a pang of both remorse and guilt within the blonde. Because doctors are there to heal, and she wishes that she had been the one to heal Jane's hands; to soothe, to care. And she's reminded that she wasn't, because she wasn't there.

Not being able to watch the woman in front of her struggle any more, she took the bottle gently from her grasp and pulled the cap off herself before placing it back in her hands.

"Thanks."

And it's the first word she's spoken to her and though it may not speak volumes in terms of clearing up the past they shared, she files it away in the recesses of her memory nonetheless because it speaks volumes to her. After sixteen years, it means a lot.

It used to be Jane who couldn't stand silence. She always used to fidget excessively. But now, she finds that their roles are reversed, and she's the only one who seems uncomfortable. They made their way over to the couch, Maura trailing behind, where Jane sat down but the blonde stood uncertain as to whether she should too. At one time, she wouldn't have hesitated, going to sit beside the brunette, hands entwined, head on her shoulder. Now, it's nothing short of awkward.

"I'm not going to bite, Maur."

The nickname brings a rush of endorphins to the otherwise stressful situation Maura finds herself in as she takes comfort in the familiarity of it all. And she's not sure if it's said to make her feel more comfortable because at the moment she's a bunch of jittery nerves, and she's liable to run at even the slightest confrontation, or because of the past they share; either way, it works, and she relaxes, taking position on the couch, far enough away to not invade the brunette''s space. She stares down at her hands, fiddling with the ring that adorns her right hand.

"I came because I didn't want you to feel ambushed. By my presence. At BPD." This was harder than she thought it would be. She looks up to see Jane staring at her contemplatively. "Jane?"

Whatever moment Jane was going through in her head, she soon snapped out of, saying, "You're the new ME." And it wasn't a question, but rather a statement, indicating that on some level she either had to have heard or she guessed. And she hopes it's the latter because the thought of it being that Jane knew she was back, at her place of work no less, and yet never got into contact, is too painful to bear.

"I-yes." The brunette shrugged, clearly showing indifference. Hesitantly, she continued. "You're okay with this? With me being here? Working at BPD? Because I swear I had no idea when I accepted..."

"How did you know?" she interrupts.

"Barry told me. You remember, Barry Frost." At this, she received a reaction. Maura couldn't help but wince at the amount of information she was throwing her way. She could only imagine how she would feel had their roles been reversed. "He's your new partner," she blurted, nervous at the lack of reaction.

_Enough already. There is only so much a person can take._

"I'm sorry..I could probably have put that better. I'm just...it's just..."

"Been a long time," she finished.

"Yes."


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it has taken so long for me to update but I appreciate the many people still sticking to find out what'll happen. I didn't realize it's been almost four days since I last gave you all something! At least, I believe it's four...lol**

**In any case, I'll let you guys get on. Enjoy! :)**

**(and yes, I did make it slightly longer...lol)**

* * *

Chapter 8

_She's sixteen again and she's waiting anxiously within the confines of her home for her lab partner, who just happens to be the same girl who helped her pick up her books that day, to turn up so that they can do their project together. And she wonders whether she'll be like the rest of them who either say they'll come by but don't end up doing so and in the end get the grade for all the hard work she's put in on her own, making the excuse on the pretense of being ill but yet having the decency to tell her the minute before they are due to arrive that they won't be coming. Or worse yet, whether she'll be one of those who leaves her hanging telling her the next day that they forgot and that they had better things to do than hang out with her to complete a stupid project anyway, and besides, she's more than capable of doing the work herself for the two of them, isn't she? _

_But then the doorbell rings, and she rushes down the stairs calling out to their butler that she'll answer it, to find the brunette standing on the stoop of her front porch, smiling shyly as she scuffs her toe of her sneaker nervously, hands in pockets. And she can't help smiling back, and feel the relief that comes with it. Because her faith in humanity is restored._

* * *

Maura sat at her kitchen counter quietly, coffee in hand, deep in contemplative thought. The sun was just beginning to rise, signifying a new day. It's been a couple of months since she turned up on the brunette's doorstep, where they that night and every one after, talked about everything and nothing. Till yesterday.

That first night, she'd wanted to ask the brunette a myriad of questions, and in the same instance, tell her a myriad of things.

_I know what happened._

_I know what your father did._

_Why didn't you come to me?_

_Why did you run?_

_Where did you go?_

_Why didn't you come back?_

_I waited._

_I missed you._

_I've loved you for sixteen years._

_I've never stopped._

But as far as first meets go, it hadn't been the right time. That much, she did know.

So she bided her time. She started small. Slow. She gave Jane her number and Maura hers. They started texting. Simple things like 'hi', 'how's your day going', that sort of thing. Then they moved on to coffee with Jane making the fifteen minute walk to Boston Joe's, a coffee shop within walking distance both from her own home and from the precinct with Jane asking how she was settling in, whether Frost had changed at all, how she was enjoying her new job. And then they moved on to dinner.

Surprisingly, it had been Jane who had suggested it. Till she realized she was in no state to cook quite yet. And so, it was Maura who went to Jane's, made dinner once or twice a week, time and case permitting. They spoke about bigger things. Like cases, colleagues, how the Detective's hovered over her till she kicked them out of her morgue. Examining a body was an art, was her defense; intricate in some ways, in others not. Jane had taken it all in good humor, even laughing at some points. They never spoke about it. The past that shall not be named. Nor did they speak about Hoyt. She knew though. From what Barry had told her. It hadn't been the full story; just a brief outline. That was left for Jane to tell and the blonde respected the fact that she wasn't ready to delve into that part of her life just yet. But it had been enough for her to count the number of veins and muscles and tendons and nerves the scalpels had cut through, and imagine the pain the brunette had gone through both as they had slowly sliced into her palms and later, when they had been carefully and meticulously drawn out.

She'd like to think that given their newly established contact, that they weren't acquaintances. And yet she wasn't sure if they were quite friends either, and somehow, after last night, she doubted whether they'd ever make the cross over into that territory let alone whether Jane had become to regard her as such. She'd like to think it were the latter but certainty was one thing that wasn't on her side.

It had been a spur of the moment thing. Dinner, that is. Jane had sent her a message saying that she had now made it to the point that she could now hold a pen and write with it for a significantly long period of time and since that was the case, she could now also drive and had been cleared to do so. So the ME had suggested a celebration of sorts. In jubilation of Jane's newly reclaimed independence, she had invited her over for dinner at hers instead. With a movie thrown in, if she felt up to it. She had waited agonizing minutes for the brunette's reply, only to find herself letting out the breath she didn't know she had been holding when it had come back asking what time she should be there.

7.30pm came and went. Maura found herself wringing her hands as dinner sat ready and waiting to be doled out on the stove. Finally, what felt like hours later, when in reality it had only been ten or so minutes really, the doorbell rang, and there she stood on the doorstep, bottle of wine in hand. She was dressed in black skinny jeans, a white oxford, a black leather jacket and black boots. The ensemble made Maura shiver and she felt the familiar coil deep within her belly. Aware that she'd been staring for longer than what would be appropriate, she invited her in, taking her jacket off her and hanging it up.

_She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I'm late," she said, handing over the wine to the blonde. "I thought I'd stop by and get some wine for you, after all the time's you brought the stuff over to mine these past few weeks."_

_Maura had just been glad to see her. "You shouldn't have, but thank you. It was very thoughtful of you." She made her way into the kitchen, Jane following close behind._

_"It's funny you should bring wine," she said over her shoulder. "I bought your beer." An eyebrow went up._

_"My beer? You remembered what beer I like?"_

_"Yes...I find that sometimes, it's the little things that make the most difference." The words were said simply, and for a second, she could have sworn that there was something between them, something that Jane felt too. But it was gone the minute she blinked._

_"In that case, mind if I have one?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"You know, the beer you were talking about? The one you so kindly remembered to buy?" she teased._

_Maura flushed. "Oh. Yes, of course." Grabbing one from the fridge along with the bottle opener, she placed both on the counter allowing the brunette to do the honors. Jane gave her a brilliant mega watt smile that made the ME's heart race and happily popped the cap off, holding the bottle up to clink with Maura's already standing glass of wine in silent celebration. They shared a smile as they both drank their respective drinks. Putting hers down, she made her way over to the oven where the plates were warming and dished up the food, putting a slightly larger amount on the brunette's plate knowing her appetite. With Jane taking the plates over to the dining table the ME had indicated, Maura took their drinks._

_"Smells good, Maur." She flushes once again hearing the familiar nickname she had been given all those years ago._

_Snap out of it!_

_"Thank you," she replied, drawing her chair out and sitting down._

_"It's just a simple spaghetti and meatballs. It's probably not quite as good as your mother's but I hope it will do." _

_And there it was. _

_The first slip up. _

_Awareness crackled between them and the ME cursed herself for bringing up a part of their past they had made sure to steer clear of. But what was done was done, and given the tiny shrug that came from the brunette, she figured it couldn't hurt to press a bit harder. "Do you see her much?" It was a loaded question. Of course, she knew there had been a period of time when Jane had disappeared that she had not thought to keep in touch with anyone. Not Maura. Not her brothers. Not Frost. Not even her mother. But what with her being back in Boston, she was curious to find out whether Angela knew of her daughter's presence now._

_"I went to see her about six months after I got back." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Now I see her maybe every once a month. On my own terms." She added, slightly defiantly. _

_"What does she do?"_

_"You remember, G?"_

_Maura squinted in obvious displeasure as the one time Jane's childhood acquaintance asked her out came to mind. "The face licker?" The brunette laughed._

_"Of all the things you remember about him, that's the one that comes to the forefront of your mind?"_

_Maura shrugged. "Given his proposal, it's not one anyone could forget." The brunette gave her a lopsided smile, shaking her head fondly._

_"She works in his garage. Keeps the books. That sort of thing."_

_"And your brothers?"_

_"Frankie's a beat cop down at southie. Tommy's in jail." The brunette scowled at the thought of her younger brother. ""He ran over a priest."_

_After that, they moved on to more neutral territory with Maura telling the brunette of her travels and her work in both France and Africa. She regaled the brunette with stories of the things she had seen, the people she had met and treated, the architecture she had so admired. It had been more lighthearted conversation. And for that, Jane had been grateful. But she knew it was just a matter of time before more was asked. Sure enough, it came just as they were settling down for the movie._

_Having cleared the plates, washed the dishes and wiped down the counters, the two proceeded over to the couch where they squabbled, teasingly of course, over what they should watch. The ME had recorded several things on her DVR, all documentaries of some kind, which Jane had wrinkled her nose at and given a decisive no, before they agreed on something called August Rush and just as the movie started up, she said,_

_"why didn't you contact me?" It was sudden and blurted and she hadn't been able to keep her curiosity at bay now that the first step had been made. And all at once, she felt nervous. Both for the way it had been asked and the silence that had ensued. Jane fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve, taking a moment to think before answering._

_"I did."_

_"You did?"_

_The brunette sighed. "I did," she repeated. "I turned up at your house one day. But I was told you weren't at home. That you were at BCU. So I left. I went to BCU. I found you. I saw you. A few months later, I heard you were to become engaged, And that was that." _

_And she's caught off guard by the fact that the brunette seems to know more about her past than she could ever have dreamed possible._

_"Why didn't you come up to me?"_

_"You had your arms round a guy's neck and you were kissing him. What was I supposed to do? Interrupt? Say 'excuse me, hi', give you a cheery wave and say 'guess what? I'm back', and hope you'd fall into my arms...as if you'd never left?"_

_Yes._

_Because I would have._

_"So you just left?"_

_"Not quite."_

_"I needed to find out if you were happy."_

_"And?"_

_"I was told you were..."_

* * *

Sitting there with her now empty coffee mug in hand, having had at least the last six hours to process, she's aware that there's only one person who could have given the brunette that information. Her mother. And it was time she found out some answers.

* * *

**Reviews, comments, thoughts, opinions? Anything you're wanting to know? Within reason, of course. I'm not just going to give away the entire story all at one go. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**It's gonna be a roller-coaster of a ride guys! But another long one for you all!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 9

Maura barged into the place she once called home, not bothering to knock, slamming the door so hard she's sure that just by doing so, she's woken the entire house.

"Mother!"

And she's aware that her tone is both demanding and imperious and that she was not brought up to speak to her superiors and elders in such a way or even her mother, but she's way beyond caring about the consquences of her supercilious behavior.

"Maura?"

Constance appears at the top of the stairs, dressing gown wrapped round, completely bewildered as to what has called for such a visit and the totally uncharacteristic attitude at this time in the morning, and from her daughter no less, who appears to be on the warpath. And a fiery one at that.

"Kitchen. Twenty minutes," comes the authoritative voice before the person who owns it stomps down the corridor leaving a very bewildered and slightly miffed Constance Isles at having been told what to do by her own daughter no less, standing rooted to the spot. She shakes herself out of her own reverie, heading back to her room to look more presentable than she had been previously.

True to her 'orders', Constance appears twenty minutes later, perfectly dressed, hair coiffed and in place as she takes a seat in front of her daughter who sets a steaming mug in front of her. Grateful, she takes a sip of the frothy substance that's been made just the way she likes it, feeling that if she's to be having this conversation, whatever this conversation was, she should at least be fully awake and functioning.

"Tell me about Jane." The older woman nearly spits out her morning sustenance, but somehow, she manages to hold it in, swallowing before she answers.

_Oh yes, she's going to need a lot of the stuff._

"What about Jane?"

"Oh I don't know. Should we start with the fact that she's back in Boston, has been for several years. Oh, but you already knew that. Or maybe, how about the visit she paid you when I was at BCU and which you never bothered telling me about?" Her hands are placed in front of her on the counter, in full attack mode.

Constance eyes her daughter warily. Sarcasm was never her daughter's forte before Jane Rizzoli but she seems to have mastered it with surprising agile ability and deftness in the years following her disappearance. It was going to be a long morning.

"I thought you were on my side. I thought you liked Jane." If Constance thought an angry Maura was one she would never want to come in contact with, the one before her now, is one she never wants to remember for the rest of her life. But she's seen this side of her daughter before, only sixteen years ago it was worse. The woman before her is small, vulnerable, childlike, crushed; the aggression she had come storming in with now gone.

"I was. I am. I do."

"Then _why_?"

Constance sighed, putting down her cup. "From what I've heard, she's a brilliant cop." It's probably not the best place to start if the flash of green eyes are anything to go by but perhaps it's time to own up to the mistakes she's made and lay everything out, no secrets.

"You knew." The tone is accusatory. And once again, she's left fighting fire with fire. "You knew all about Hoyt! You knew and yet you never told me. Not once did you think to mention her presence at BPD or the torment she had to undergo at the hands of that serial killer. Do you know in the years we've been apart, how many walls she's put up?! How many I now have to break down?!"

"Of course I knew!" she scoffed. "Apart from the fact that she showed up on our doorstep more than 10 years ago dressed in a police uniform, the fact that she's been in the press after having saved a woman's life whilst in the line of duty was also a dead giveaway! Why do you think I suggested you apply for the job?" The latter is asked quietly. She's done raising her voice. But she's determined to be heard and given a fair trial before her daughter breaks down all her defenses and highlights to her the mess she's made in the process. She has some dignity after all. "If I start from the beginning, you have to promise me one thing."

Maura just stares disbelievingly. She's as much as admitted her hand in this whole malarky and now she wants a deal?! This was beyond ridiculous!

But as much as she wants to make demands of her mother based on her own terms, she also wants answers to her questions, and she knows she won't get them unless she agrees. And so, it is with much reluctance and suspicion that she asks her next question.

"What is it you want?"

"You have to be quiet. You have to listen and not interrupt till I am finished."

"That's three things."

The eyebrow on her mother's face arches impossibly high in response. "It is that or nothing." And for a split second, the ME wonders whether she could call her bluff on it but her mother knows her better than that. She knows she will never rest till she finds out; it is part of her inquisitive nature after all. And it's part of the reason why she's so good at her job. But she also knows how headstrong and inexorably unshakable Constance Isles can be when she doesn't get her way. She's like that herself. But she wants to know, and that is what trumps all. And if that means a few minutes of keeping quiet and listening, she'll do it.

"Fine." The crossing of the arms across the chest tells the older of the two that she's not happy about it, but for now, she will agree. And so, she starts...

"Sixteen years ago, you came home, eyes shining, happier than I've ever seen you because for the first time in your life, you had finally made a friend. And it was Jane this, and Jane that. And then you two got together, and I got to meet this Jane you had been talking about every time I was home, who no doubt filled your time and your thoughts. And I admit, at first, I wasn't impressed. She wasn't from our societal class, she had very little in the way of money, she was a bit rough around the edges. But you know what made it for me? It wasn't just the fact that she stood up to me at that art installation telling me to effectively get myself into gear and start acting as your mother. It was the way she looked at you. Like you were the only person in the room, the way her eyes automatically searched for your presence and wouldn't rest till they found you because you, my dear girl," she said, placing a well weathered hand on top a small dainty one, "you were the paint to her canvas, the stars to her moon. You were the reason she lived and breathed. And that girl adored you, would do anything for you. And you...you were positively glowing! And the two of you had a happy eight months together. You graduated together, you applied to BCU together. You believed you would be together forever. But then came that fateful knock and the world as you'd imagined it, came crumbling down the moment Angela turned up, begging, pleading...I watched the light go out of your eyes, I watched you become but a mere shell of your former self - secluded, withdrawn, sapped, fraught."

And it's clear she's not the only one who remembers that time. Because the blonde remembers it well too.

"Don't get me wrong, Maura. I will forever be in her debt for the change she made to our relationship, for allowing me to see how much you needed me and I you. She gave me a daughter. But I will never forget the look on your face or month following that fateful night. She. Broke. You."

And she sees her daughter on the brink of interrupting but she holds up a hand effectively silencing her.

"She broke you. In much the same way as you believe you probably broke her. But none of this was your fault." Constance is beseeching to the woman before her as she entreats her to see the way she saw it. "I saw you. I was there to witness it all. You turned away from the world and all those who were there to help you, to be your strength. Your father. Me. You shut us out. You went back to your safe haven; your books. On my part, I should have done more. I should have tried harder. But Jane was the only one who could ever reach you. And don't think I don't know about the private investigator you hired, or the weekends you spent away doing a little investigation of your own."

The look of surprise on her daughter's face is clear.

"Oh yes, I knew."

_How?_

The question too, is there in her daughter's eyes, clear as day.

"I followed you once." And there it is again. That flash of resentment and umbrage. She shrugged. "You can't blame me for wanting to know that my only child is safe." In that instant, Maura is both contrite and touched, for the momentary flair of anger she felt at having been followed, and for the way she made her mother worry to the extent that she had felt the need to follow her. Had it really been that bad? Had she really been so caught up on finding Jane that she had failed to notice how worried others around her had become? For her welfare? For her emotional and mental well-being?

"In any case, I digress. Where was I? Oh yes. Four years I watched you. You may have come home to me on occasion, but you weren't all there. Your heart still yearned for Jane. And then, in the fifth year, you met Garrett. And for the first time in forever, I saw you smile again. A small one, but one nonetheless. And the two of you became close. And you can't imagine the relief and assuagement I felt that day you came to me and told me you were together. Because that day, you started letting people in again. Not to the same extent as you had ever done when Jane had been around but you did it nonetheless. I just assumed there was a part of you that was protecting yourself. From getting hurt again. And I could live with that. I could live with you not completely letting down all your walls because _I saw_, firsthand, how much it had affected you the first time round." Constance sighed, lifting one hand to alleviate the dull throbbing in her head.

"And then Jane turned up." She got up, moving over to the window that overlooked the wide expanse of land in front. Lost in thoughts of the past, she continued. "You can imagine the shock and astonishment I felt when I saw her standing on our front porch. She was wearing a police uniform. I believe at that point in time, she was a beat cop. The details on that part fail me. She asked for you." Constance turns, begging her daughter to see, pleading with her to understand. "I told her where to find you. A few days later, she turned up again, this time asking me if you were happy. I said you were."

_But I wasn't._

"I believed you were. And she said, as long as you were happy, she'd leave you alone. And she left. And day after day, I found myself wondering, questioning whether I had done the right thing. Then the days turned into months. And you came back again. You told me Garrett had proposed. And I was so pleased for you for finding someone who you loved and loved you in return."

_But I didn't. _

_It wasn't the same._

"And I remember standing there as you told me your news all the while wondering what had been wrong with that sentence and the way you said it. And then I realized. You said he _proposed_. But you didn't say you had _accepted_. And there wasn't that look in your eyes. The one that shines so bright, that's full of bliss and contentment and joy and delirium. The one that was there only for Jane. I knew then I had made a mistake." She takes out her handkerchief to wipe the tears that have filled her eyes. She fiddles with it as she puts it down.

"I should have told you," she admits, "I don't deny that. And I know I'm about a decade too late in telling you that, but I'm saying it now. It's why I told you to think about his proposal; whether it was what you really wanted. It's why I told you the story of your father and I. It's why I told you you were still young, you had your whole life ahead of you. It's why I told you to explore the world for a while, see what's out there. It's why I didn't tell you otherwise. It's also why I told you about the job and advised you to apply for it. Because, you weren't happy. But it was within my power to make you so. I'm just sorry it took me so long to tell you so." And that, for Maura, is the clincher. Because, despite having kept the truth from her all these years, it is her mother who ultimately prevented her from making the second biggest mistake of her life. Indirectly, she saved her from her present and her future. She saved her from becoming a trophy wife. She saved her. For Jane.

Hearing this impassioned speech coming from her mother, she's suddenly aware of the lump that's taken place in her throat and the tears that have come unbidden in her eyes, but have not yet spilled over. She swallows, clearing her throat.

"You say all this..." she says, gesturing to everything and nothing, "but what am I supposed to do now?" Constance approaches her child who's now grown into the most magnificent, compassionate woman any mother would be proud of and smooths back a lock of her hair that's fallen in her eyes before tilting her chin up to face her and taking both her hands in hers. If there was any time for words of guidance, it was now. If there was any time to make amends and undo all wrongs, this was it.

"You, Maura, are an Isles. You do what any Isles would do. You hold your head high, you break down those walls, and you go get your girl back."

* * *

**So. **

**What do you think? Do you think Constance was right in what she did? Could she have done things differently? Or was she right?**

**Let me know! It'd be great to hear what you think. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**To say that I was pleasantly surprised by your comments and reactions to Constance's words would be an understatement. I didn't think you all would take such a positive stance towards her given the fact that it took her years before she reunited them again. But hey ho.**

**Thank you all for your comments and support thus far. And I hope you continue to enjoy the ride. **

**ps. noblegraces: perhaps that will be for another story. But thank you for the idea(s) nonetheless. It's a consideration that has been taken into account. **

**:)**

* * *

Chapter 10

_She's sixteen again and ever since that chance encounter with the lanky brunette, she's been on the lookout ever since. But three days down and on the way to the end of her first week at school, she's starting to lose hope. She's even started to wonder if she weren't just a figment of her imagination, desperate for someone she could call a friend._

_Now it's last period on Friday, and it's that dreaded gym class she has never liked. She was sporty enough. In things like fencing and horseback riding and ice-skating. But anything with a ball and she's an absolute klutz. And over the years, given her lack of 'talent' in that arena and the fact that she's always being called a teacher's pet, and knows so much about everything that the rest of her peers ended up calling her Maura-the-bora, she's resigned herself that today will be just like every other gym class, and that ultimately, she will be picked last and be the butt of everyone else's jokes as she gets hit out first. Nobody wants her on their team anyway._

_She stands at the back of the class, head down as the gym teacher, Mr Peterson, drones on about how they will be playing dodge ball today and how he wants a good, friendly, clean game. The class snigger, and in the lead up to the game, two captains are picked. Maura wants desperately to disappear. She wants to bury herself in a book, deep within the confines of the library or an empty classroom, she wants to suffer from a fake illness so that she never has to attend this class again, she wants her mother to write her a letter saying that she is unable to participate in gym and will not do so for the rest of the year, and she wonders if she were to give the teacher the letter, whether she would hyperventilate and go vasovagal or get hives as a result because even though it's not her who's lying, the mere fact that she knows of the untruth and will be unable to look the teacher in the eye as a result of the guilt she feels will be enough for her to either start scratching or end up lying on the floor. But she never gets to find out. Because her name's been called and her head snaps up to find herself looking straight into those brown orbs she's been dreaming all week about._

_She's here. She's in her class. She called my name. She's one of the captains. She's my captain._

_And the brunette's looking at her with an encouraging smile on her face and the blonde looks round to make sure she's not in a dream within a dream, and she's not. She's been picked. And she's nowhere close to last. Ok, so she's second last. But that doesn't matter, because she knows from now on, she never will be. But most importantly, what's left her reeling is the fact that someone knows her name. She knows her name._

* * *

It's been a chaotic few weeks for the ME. After the impromptu visit to see her mother, she went home to process. Because she couldn't quite believe it herself. Everything she's been told, that is. But what affects her most is her mother's last words for her to go get 'her girl'. Because it leaves a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, a slow rising coil and she's standing there grinning like a fool at the thought of Jane being 'her girl'. Because that's the way it should always have been. And she's got all these ideas flitting around in her head about how she's going to go about getting her back and how she's determined to go slow and at the brunette's own pace when she's interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing incessantly. It's the FBI. They need her at Quantico. For an apparently difficult case. And she doesn't understand how difficult it could be considering they've the best in the business working for them, and surely their ME can't be that bad. But it's not that their ME is bad but rather that he's recovering from a bout of dengue having spent the last week overseas, and suddenly, her good mood sours because there's no way she's going to be able to put into effect any of her plans of action. She agrees. There's no one else after all. But she knows she can't just up and disappear. There is one thing she must do first.

* * *

Deep within the recesses of the brunette's home, she's nervous. After having rather hurriedly packed a bag for her journey, she took a cab immediately to see Jane, crossing both fingers and toes that she would be in. She had knocked, only to have the woman open the door, a curious and inquisitive expression taking over her features as she held the door open inviting her inside. Standing there, she told her about the job, how it was only temporary and that she'd be back within a week. The brunette had remained silent on the issue leaving Maura standing there nervously wringing her hands.

"I just wanted you to know I'm not just up and leaving," she said, hoping to get a response. For the second time in as many days as they've gotten reacquainted, Jane gives her a look which she can't quite place before she shrugs and says okay. And she's slightly disbelieving at the way in which the woman before her is handling the whole situation. "I will be back."

"I know." The response does nothing to quell her nerves. And then it strikes her. This week will be her first week back. Sure, she'll be on desk duty but still, she wanted to be there for her. Even though they've never talked about what happened. And she's frustrated and disappointed at the inconvenience this job has caused but there's nothing she can do about it.

The honk of the taxi outside reminds her of her current priorities causing her to look in the direction of the window. But it's the stilling of her hands that grab her attention and the words after that that created slight relief and hope that she would still be here once she returned.

"I'll see you when you get back."

* * *

Only problem was, she didn't. Not because she ran. But because she got called away again. This time to the ME's office in Springfield, where she's spent a harrowing two weeks helping them process evidence to a serial killer they had on their hands. And she's also had to reorganize the place. It was appalling to see the utter chaos in which they worked and she made a mental note to check on the other offices at another point in time just to ensure things were being run smoothly and being done by the book. Pike certainly wasn't getting the job done over here.

In the three weeks she's been away, Jane's gotten by in leaps and bounds. After over two weeks on desk duty, in which poor old Frost got re-acquainted with a grumpy Jane Rizzoli who absolutely hated not being in the field, she re-sat her shooting practical and also got cleared by her therapist, which means she's back to hunting down killers and bad guys and putting herself on the line. And whilst she may not have been there for her first week back, Maura's thankful that she will be there for her first day back 'on the job.' The 'real' job as Jane put it to her last night once she'd arrived only to be greeted by the comforts of her home.

They've kept in contact. Mostly text messages and emails, both of which were especially useful whilst the brunette detective went stir crazy sitting at her desk doing that god-awful thing called paperwork.

* * *

Sitting at her counter, coffee and paper in hand, she's grateful for the momentary lapse in people killing other people. It's the first time she's had time to relax and breathe and go through her morning ablutions without interruption. She even managed to fit in some yoga. Her phone sounds. She smiles, thinking it's Jane calling, but she's surprised to find it's actually Barry Frost.

"Good morning, Detective Frost."

"Mornin' Doc."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" There's a brief pause as the man on the other end of the line thinks how best to answer. "Detective?" she prompts.

"Listen, Doc. We've got a murder. And it isn't pretty."

"They never usually are, Barry" she murmurs.

"It's just...I know you're not back till tomorrow but I'd..._we'd_ really appreciate it if you attended to this one yourself." It's what he doesn't say that makes her worry. Because she hears it. The apprehension in his voice, the sound of Korsak barking orders in the background as officers scurry about aiding his requests, the quiet terror that seems to envelope them both. Whatever has gone down down there isn't good.

"What is it, Barry? What's wrong?"

_What aren't you telling me?_

The hesitance is there. "It-it's-this one...it's personal, Maura. It concerns, Jane. Or at least, we believe it does." He had her at the mention of the brunette's name.

"I'm on my way."


	11. Chapter 11

**So I thought I'd bring in a little bit of Jane this chapter. :)**

* * *

Chapter 11

_She's sixteen again and she's walking in the rain after just having had a fight with her girlfriend when she's pulled from behind. And had it not been for the familiar hand gripping her wrist, she would have fought and she would have flailed. _

_But she's not. _

_Because she knows that hand. _

_And suddenly, it's cupping her cheek and pulling her closer and she's met by a kiss of epic proportions where the unannounced words of "I'm sorry, I love you, forgive me," float around. And she does. Because there's nothing in this world she wouldn't do for this girl._

* * *

Jane got out of her BPD issued Lincoln, her gaze sweeping the scene, taking in everything from the unwanted presence of Darren Crowe to the reporters standing at the sidelines, eagerly awaiting some news like vultures to their prey. She made her way up to the house, eyes and ears attune to everything that was going on when she heard her colleague speak.

"We call Doctor Isles 'Queen of the Dead'," he sniggered as if just having told a joke. Some took notice, scribbling the meagre piece of information on their notepads. The Detective's hackles rose.

"What's that, Crowe?" she demanded, rounding on him.

"Jeez, Rizzoli. Take a midol." He answered back, rolling his eyes at her sudden flash of temper.

_Don't let him get to you. He's just looking for a reaction. Maura's words resounded in her ears._

"Captain cleared you?" She smirked knowing that this time she had the upper hand.

"What's it to you, dyke?" He sneered.

"Oh I don't know... I only ask because it's my case."

"Since when?!"

"Since Capt told me I did." She smiled triumphantly. "Where's Frost?"

"Where else? Losing his lunch. Kid shoulda stayed in robbery," he scoffed. "Gives the rest of us a bad name."

Jane shook her head, ducking under the tape as she made her way over to the bushes where Frost was. It hadn't failed to cross her mind what on earth he was in homicide for but despite his inability to look at a body, he was a damn good detective with some fine computer skills. Committed too. And eager to learn. At the end of the day, she couldn't hold that against him. Plus he was her friend. Their history went years back.

"Cut the guy a break. Least he didn't trip over a body without knowing it was lying there in broad daylight," she shot back over her shoulder.

Crowe launched himself at her taking her down. She covered her face to save herself from the blows he aimed at her, hearing a small crack as he made contact with her nose. Blood poured from it. Thinking swiftly, she quickly gained the upper hand as she turned him over, holding him in a deadlock. A few officers had run over by this point but no one dared to step in. Rizzoli could hold her own as far as they were concerned. Pressing down on him hard, he grunted in pain.

"Next time you decide to jump me, I won't hesitate to take your badge. Got it?" She pressed down harder.

"Yes! Ok!"

Releasing him, she brushed herself down and made her way over to Frost.

"You ok?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he asked, grinning at her sudden display of masculinity. She rolled her eyes in response. He handed her his handkerchief to stifle the blood flow. She accepted it silently. "Something I ate," he lied, knowing she would see right through it. Nothing got past Jane.

Changing the topic, "So. Where's the crime scene?" He squirmed uncomfortably for a second before he made his way in the direction of the body, head flicking over his shoulder. Approaching the house, Jane couldn't help but feel a sense of pensiveness and foreboding; she took note of the people who swarmed the scene, cautious glances flicking in her direction. She flexed her hands.

"Your hands hurt?" The question was quiet.

"It's going to rain." Turning towards the officer stationed at the door, her voice was crisp, precise, strong. "Rizzoli victor 825."

He nodded, letting them through. She took in the large hallway and the wooden staircase as she passed through, her gaze landing on Korsak and finally, Maura. She turned her attention back to her ex-partner. "Thought you were on vacation?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Got bored," he said, "So I cut it short." The brunette scrutinized him, noticing how he kept his gaze on hers despite her daring him to look away because she could see right through him; they had known each other far too long for that bullshit.

"That bad, huh?" She had to give it to the man. Facially, he gave nothing away.

"Worse," he replied, indicating for her to go closer. She made her way over to the blonde who was currently bent over the body lying on the couch. It was a sight to behold all victims. The man's neck had been sliced open, the rest of him tightly bound. She saw the flicker of concern that flitted over the blonde's features before they were carefully schooled; hidden. Her eyes narrowed however as the detective came in for a closer examination, and she stood up abruptly, taking note of the disfigurement on the brunette's face. Jane backed away slightly at her sudden movement.

"Hairline fracture of the nasal bone just above the lateral nasal cartilage," she observed, coming face to face with the brunette. She scrutinized the rest of her face as if to make sure there were no further injuries to take note of. Satisfied, she nodded. "It's not disfiguring. Permanently anyway."

"So...can you fix it?"

The ME gently took the detective's chin in her hand, studying it carefully. "Of course," she replied. "Might hurt a little though."

Jane shrugged. Pain she could take. She watched as Maura brought her hand up to her nose and tried not to sigh at the feel of her hands on her face. It was calming. And far too familiar. The gentleness and compassion that had been there sixteen years ago still existed, only this time it was more reverent. She took note of their position, lips barely centimeters away, lips that she had once-

"Ow! Fuck! A little?! Really?" she deadpanned, bringing her hands to her nose in the process. Maura blinked, not moving from her position so close to Jane.

"You should put some ice on it for the next 24 hours," she murmured, "stop you looking like Mike Tyson." Her fingers skimmed the brunette's nose again, double-checking that her work had been done. She backed away, aware that they'd been standing too close for whatever it was that was between them to come to light at that particular moment given their professional setting and smiled as she put her glove back on. She went back to work as Korsak quickly filled her in. Jane's gaze flitted round the house, landing on a picture of the couple.

"Well to do couple,"she surmised. "Man has obviously been bound and posed. Wife's missing though..." Her eyes fell. "And a teacup." They snapped back up to Korsak who was watching her, guilt having gotten the better of him at this point. "Is he out?" The question was point blank. There was no avoiding it. From the corner of her eye, she could see the ME watching her intently.

"No. He's not. It's just his MO, that's all."

"You didn't think to tell her? Inform her before she got here?" Maura's tone was disbelieving.

"We had no confirmation it was him," he argued. "But from what you've said, it looks like it, right?"

Jane pinched her nose, then winced and removed her hand thinking better of it. "If that son of a bitch is behind bars, how the hell did he do this? How the hell is this even possible!" she gestured.

"It's not. Prison authorities say he's on lockdown. I called them myself." He stepped cautiously towards the brunette. "Anyone could have done this. Any sick perp who had watched the news, read the papers, listened to the radio even. It's obvious. We've got a copy cat."

"Except we didn't release this detail," she said, indicating to the teacup. Silence encompassed the room. "Shit," she whispered. "We've got an apprentice." No one could argue with that. Maura stepped up, not quite invading her space, but not far enough away either.

"Perhaps you should sit this one out." The suggestion had been well-meaning but it was met with fire and ire.

The detective stood resolutely, arms crossing over her chest. "No."

"Jane..."

"No. I won't hear of it, Maura," she said between clenched teeth. Maura found herself suddenly dealing with an impossibly stubborn, strong-willed detective. But if there was one thing she was determined about, it was that she wasn't going to lose the brunette over this.

Frustration took over. "You were his victim! What makes you think you can be objective?! What makes you think you won't play right into his hands?!" she hissed.

The whole room went quiet. Frost and Korsak looked on silently. It was an explosion waiting to happen. No one but Korsak knew what had happened between Jane and Hoyt. Only he had read her witness statement. But despite his involvement, they'd never talked about it. Jane because she didn't want to portray the depths of her vulnerability any further. Korsak because...well...because it was Rizzoli. He had known her since before she was a rookie. She wasn't the type to talk about herself, her feelings. And he accepted that. It was the way some cops dealt.

"You questioning my ability to do my job?" There was warning in her voice. The blonde opened her mouth to reply but was quickly cut off. "I'd think carefully before I answer, Doctor." The barb stung. Jane went on. "You're right though. This is personal. Between me and him. Do you want me to tell you how long I spent in that basement, how much have internally berated myself for not having waited for backup. Or perhaps I should speak only of the intense I felt as he drove those scalpels through my palms twisting them as he did so, how much I screamed and writhed. Or perhaps," she said, leaning in close so that only Maura could hear, "the way he bent down and whispered in my ear almost to the point of cooing, how I was his, the pleasure he took in knowing he had me, that he would forever be the subject of my dreams...which part would you like to hear first?" she sneered.

"Janie..." Korsak's voice protruded her conscious state. It was low. Quiet.

She drew back to look at the blonde. Remorse struck her square in the heart but it was too late to go back now. She couldn't turn back time. Not now. Not sixteen years ago. Tears streamed down the ME's face as images of what Jane described flashed through her head. This was not how she had wanted to broach the issue with the brunette. Not in front of all these people. Not in the face of so much anger and hate for the one man Jane thought had ruined her. Who she thought had left her broken, and weak, and vulnerable. This was not how she had foreseen their first view of each other in as many weeks that they'd been apart as going. Maura shook her head.

"I didn't...I don't..." For all the things she wanted to convey, she couldn't.

"Yeah. I didn't think so either." Her head snapped up locating Frost. "Think you can manage processing the rest of the scene?"

The man before her nodded mutely.

Giving a brisk and brief glance around the room the brunette took in the silence that surrounded them.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get back to work!" she snarled.

It was enough to send people scurrying. She couldn't be here. Not while they all waited and watched with baited breath for her to fall. So she did the one thing she could do. Turning on her heel, she left.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you for the reviews! It's nice to hear your comments and hear what you thought about Jane's reaction in the last chapter. For all those who thought it was harsh, I agree that Maura didn't deserve it, but I have to say one thing: PTSD! Given that she's still recovering from the trauma of her first encounter with Hoyt, the Yaeger murders only helped to further trigger it, making her hyper-responsive to the situation. Hope that clarifies her behavior a bit.**

**In any case, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 12

Maura entered the bullpen intent on trying to explain her behavior earlier this morning. She had never doubted for one second the brunette's ability to do her job and to do it well. It was just...she had heard the stories, the quiet whisperings of fellow cops in the cafe when they thought no one was listening. But Maura had. She stood sometimes, in the pretense of trying to decide what small morsel she should treat herself to, deep in the knowledge that she never would because god only knew how much fat they contained, listening to their conversations. For some, it would have been considered as eavesdropping, something she had always been taught never to do but given the volume of their voices she could hardly deem it as so. Besides, when it came to Jane...she couldn't help it. She wanted to know as much about the brunette as she could. She wanted to know what she had missed. So she stood, and listened, always slightly off to one side as they regaled how she had taken down men three times her size, some armed, all definitely dangerous. They had been in awe. But this thing with Hoyt had only added to the furor.

Her eyes scanned the area. But there was no Jane.

"If you're looking for Frost, the kid ain't here. He's hit the gym," a voice called out. She looked over in its direction, her gaze landing on Korsak. "But somehow...I don't think you're here for him. " His eyes were kind and understanding. She walked over to him.

"Do you know where she is?"

"Not for certain. But I can hazard a guess."

"Would you be willing to tell me?" She was pushing it. She knew it. Korsak's allegiance was and always will be to Jane. Anyone would be a fool not to know that. He was quiet for a moment, eyes holding steady with hers as if trying to determine whether or not to give said information. "I won't hurt her."

_I love her._

_I want to be there for her._

_Please._

_Let me._

The older man stood, shutting down his computer, grabbing his keys and the jacket off the back of his chair as he made his way out. Maura's heart sank.

"You comin' or what?" he called out.

* * *

After about ten minutes of driving, Maura found herself in a part of town she'd never been to before. Curiosity got the better of her.

"Where are we going?"

"South End," he replied. He looked over at her. "My uncle had a bar there. Back in the 80's, my uncle quit his run of the mill job and opened his own bar. It was a rough part of town back then. Fights weren't uncommon. But it was cheap and all he could afford. It was his dream. He put a lot of effort into it. Bought a pool table, a piano. He let people come and play. Up and coming artists came in as live entertainment. I used to visit now and then. Help out behind the bar. I think it helped a bit with business. The fact that I was on the force. It had all been going very well. Then one day, someone threw a petrol bomb through the window and the whole place went up in flames. Poof," he said, one hand coming off the steering wheel as if to mime the action. Maura sat silently, simply listening. "My uncle, he ran back in. Tried to save the place. Died trying in the end. The only thing left standing was the piano. Sort of, if you can call it being lopsided standing. Anyway, I found out he'd left it to me." She quickly puts the pieces together but comes to a mental standstill about how Jane factored into the whole thing. By her calculation, Jane would have still been a child back then.

"I'm sorry for your loss but I don't understand. How does this relate to Jane?"

"Found her squatting there one night." Maura let out a barely audible gasp. Is that what Jane had been reduced to? "At first I let her. I didn't know at the time she was staying there. I just thought she'd broken in or something, it wasn't that hard to get in to be honest. First time I realized the place had a visitor, I heard music coming out of it. I left. I don't know why," he shrugged. "Eventually though, curiosity got the best of me. So I went. And that's when I saw her." Subconsciously, his eyes remained focused on the road. His attention however, was elsewhere; lost in the memories of the past. "She was sitting at the piano playing some sort of thing or other, sleeping bag in the corner, a few small tins of food and a camping stove next to it."

"W-why?" she stuttered, unable to form the words necessary.

"Why was she there?" he clarified. She nodded mutely. Korsak shrugged.

"Said she couldn't go home. Said she didn't have anywhere else to go."

The pain she had felt all those years ago returned with a vengeance. With that revelation, silence sat over the two companions, each lost in their own thoughts, their subject matter the same.

* * *

Drawing up at their destination, Korsak killed the engine. In the short car ride, and given what Korsak's just told her, it's a lot to take in. She'd had no idea, and Jane certainly hadn't mentioned anything pertaining to that part of her past. Mind you, they had barely talked about it. Yet. Taking off her seat belt, she turned to face him.

"Was she..." she looked down, turning the ring that rested on her right hand over and over.

"Ok?" Maura nodded, not quite able to get the words out.

He shrugged. "Apart from being slightly malnourished, she was fine." Korsak covered her hand with his, causing her to look up. She saw sincerity and kinship in his gaze, and whilst it was comforting, it still wasn't Jane. "She was fine, Maura. I let her stay a while. Aside from arresting her, which I couldn't do, I couldn't ask her to leave. There was something about her...besides, she didn't exactly seem like a threat to me. So I let her stay. I got her to trust me. I came here, once a day, if possible, brought a little something for her to eat. Eventually, she let me sit down and join her. Sometimes she played, sometimes she didn't. The way her fingers ran over the keys bringing that old piano to life...it was..amazing." He paused, lost in the memory. "I asked if she'd been to college. Girl with her talent must have had it nurtured or received some sort of instruction or whatever it is they call it. Thought by the way she played and given her age, she was a music student. She scoffed at me. Can you believe it? Even then, she had an attitude." He shook his head in recollection. Maura laughed lightly. "Said she wasn't a musician. Told me she wanted to be a cop. I told her I'd help her. But it had to be on my terms. She had to get checked over by a doctor first. Then go to college. And finally, the Academy. She agreed. She stayed with me for a while till she got her own place. I don't think living with an old scout like me was quite her thing." She smiled at his attempt to humor her. It sounded exactly like the brunette. ""She's fine, Maura," he repeated, as if to emphasize his point, "existing as she has been. But it'd be nice to see her be more than fine for once."

"I-I don't..."

"You two have a history," he interrupted, "It doesn't take a detective to see that. And even then, I'd be a pretty poor one if I didn't notice it," he joked. The smile he received was strained.

"What I said today..."

"Needed to be said," he finished. Hazel eyes flashed with surprise. Never had she thought, he would take her side. Especially given his history with Jane. Once again his shoulders rose and fell, sighing as they did so. "In case you haven't noticed, Jane's not exactly the most open of people. She keeps everything deep within. With the things we see on this job, I accepted that. Different people deal with different things differently. It needed to be said, Maura. Before she breaks completely."

"You think she will?"

"We all have that one case that gets the best of us; that invades our dreams and haunts our reality. That makes us question our own sanity. For Jane, it's Hoyt." Suddenly the man before her looked older than his years; tiredness and exhaustion had crept up on him in the process. "You're as different as chalk and cheese but you're the one, Maura. You're the only one who can get through to her. I've seen the two of you. You calm her. A touch, a look. That's all it takes. You find something like that, you gotta hold on to it. You're the one."


	13. Chapter 13

**It's nice to see how many people are truly enjoying the way this story is panning out. And for all your reviews and comments and pleas either asking for more or an update soon, I've made this chapter is slightly longer than usual. After all, the more you get to read the better...right? I hope you enjoy it. Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 13

_She's sixteen again and for their first date, Jane's taken her to the carnival, where she's knee high in games and rides and sweet sugary snacks and funnel cake. In one hand is the turtle Jane won for her, in the other is the hand that fits so well with hers. And despite how good a time she's been having, her eyes are on the prize of the carnival; the ferris wheel. _

_And Jane sees her excitement and pulls her towards it despite her being one part terrified and the other part curious. _

_And they get on. _

_And before Maura knows it, she's high in the sky overlooking the city lights and the people and vehicles down below. She looks over at her girlfriend who's grinning at her like she's the sun and the stars and the moon all rolled into one. __And suddenly, the prize isn't the wheel anymore. _

_Suddenly it's Jane._

* * *

Stepping out of the car, Korsak's wise words reverberating in her head, she walked over to the door of the old bar, the headlights of the detective sergeant's car on full beam helping her see more clearly as she picked her way across the gravelly parking area. Stopping in front, she was about to put her hand on the door to pull it open, when the sound of Korsak's voice stopped her.

"Hey, Doc!" he called. She turned to see him standing by the side of his car. "If she's in there playing, you'll probably need these. Likelihood that she'll actually hear you at the door is slim to none," he said, tossing a set of keys to her. Deftly, and with much grace, she caught them, causing him to raise an brow in her direction which, given the fact that her attention had been on the flying bunch, she missed.

_Perhaps there was more to the woman after all_, he thought as he got back in.

Pulling against the door lightly, she found rightly enough that it was locked. She slotted the key in and turned, pulling the door open gently so as to not interrupt the soft echo of the melody that floated towards her. It's slow. It's deep. And it's hauntingly sad. That much is evident from the few notes played that are ever so slightly out of key. And it's one she knows, remembers, with alarming clarity. It's the beginning of Frederic Chopin's nocturne in e flat. And it speaks volumes to her.

.

_They're sitting there on Maura's bed studying. Or at least she's studying. Jane just seems to be doodling inside her book._

_"Jane, you know studying actually involves some form of reading right? Of taking in the information and putting it to memory?" The brunette merely raises an eyebrow before bursting out in laughter._

_"Why, Maura Isles, did you just use sarcasm?"_

_"Did I do it correctly?"_

_"Uhuh," she says, nodding in affirmation._

_"This yes. I did," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. She was getting the hang of this sarcasm thing._

_"Ugh." Jane gave a dramatic sigh, letting her arm fall loose over her eyes, her textbook banging shut with a loud thud. "Studying's borrrringggg, Maur." Maura giggles. Hearing the blonde, Jane rolls onto her side, head propped up on one elbow. "Let's take a break!"_

_It's Maura's turn to feign exasperation. "Jane..."_

_"What?!"_

_"You been on a break for the last half and hour or so," she says pointedly checking her watch. "And besides, we have a test tomorrow. We need to be fully prepared for it."_

_"Can't I just copy from you?" comes the cheeky response._

_"Jane Rizzoli!" The scandalous tone in the blonde's voice makes Jane want to laugh again, but she doesn't, instead choosing to wiggle her eyebrows mischievously at her. Seeing the look on her friend's face alleviates Maura's heart rate slightly as she realizes she's said the words in jest. She swats her friend's arm playfully, finding herself giving in. _

_"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "Half an hour. But then we really must study." Jane nods her head in agreement. "What do you want to do?"_

_The brunette thinks for a moment. "Let's get some ice-cream, then go for a walk."_

_._

_Ten minutes later, ice-cream in hand, they've had to resign themselves to walking around indoors as the moment they opened the patio doors, they found that the heavens had opened. They're in the east wing of the house when Jane stops._

_"What's behind this door?" She's been quizzing her the entire way through the purpose of each and every room._

_"A piano." Maura takes another spoonful of mint chocolate chip as she continues their journey down the impressive hallway only to find that the brunette isn't beside her. She turns to find her stood still in front of the last door they came to staring at the huge wooden door._

_"Jane?"_

_The brunette turns to face her, an undefinable look on her face. "Can we go in?" Maura nods and walks back over to her friend, pushing the doors open to reveal a large, black grand piano standing centre stage. She grins at her friend's gasp and the look of complete and utter awe that seems to have overtaken her facial expressions. She looks like a kid at candy store who has just been told she could pick any type of candy she wanted, no restrictions barred. She watches as the brunette makes her way over to it, circling it like a vulture to its prey._

_"You've got a grand."_

_"Yes," she nods as Jane goes to open it up. "Did you know that a normal piano only has 36 black keys and 52 white keys but a grand piano has-"_

_"92 keys. It's also known as the 'king' of instruments," Jane finishes. Now it's Maura's turn to be surprised. The brunette turns her head slightly over her shoulder to look at her friend who's seemingly frozen on the spot. "What? I do know things, Maur. Apart from sports that is," she teased. Maura blushes furiously as it dawns on her the implication of her jaw that appears to have dropped to the floor and her subsequent silence._

_"I-I didn't mean..." but Jane waves away whatever it is she's about to say, her attention back on the instrument before her. _

_"My nonna used to have one. Used to let me have a bit of a go on it." _

_The blonde blinks once, twice trying to take in and absorb the information that's just been thrown at her. After a few moments, she finds herself able to form sentences again, though not necessarily coherent ones as she stands there rather stupidly and asks, __"You play?"_

_The brunette shrugged. "A bit," she says, "not very well." Maura watches as her friend runs long, dexterous fingers over the keys reverently, but what with this revelation, she finds herself unable to go to her; she's rooted to the spot._

_"May I?" Maura nods. It's not as if it's been played before. She's certainly never heard it been. And she watches. As Jane takes position. Back straight, fingers splayed. Like a true pianist. And suddenly her hands move. And Maura gasps but no sound comes out of her throat. Or at least, not that she hears. Because she's overwhelmed and taken aback and in awe of the sounds and melodious notes that seem to be coming from the tips of her friend's wondrous fingers. Because the girl sitting there is not the loud, brash, impatient, sports-loving, roughhousing, most of the time unruly Italian she's come to know. She's someone else entirely. She's the mona lisa that sits on the wall of the Louvre that millions, billions of tourists from around the world go to view, she's the Colossus of Rhodes, she's the hurricane that blows through leaving amazing destruction in her wake. _

_She __is._

_THE _

_holy. _

_grail. _

_She deserves to be revered and admired and respected and worshiped and feared. She's amazing and brilliant and awe-inspiring and mind-blowing all rolled into one. She's Jane Rizzoli. And it takes Maura a while to come to terms with the fact that the person sitting at that piano is the same person who was lying beside her no less than thirty minutes ago making random doodles in her book. She's blown away. And by the time the brunette finishes the piece, she's not quite sure if she'll ever come back down to earth after the stunning display she's just heard. Somewhere in the background, her mind computes that the brunette has stopped playing, that the lid of the piano has been closed down over the keys and that her friend has just turned to face her. _

_And she struggles. _

_For but a moment. _

_Before she speaks._

_"You play." And this time, it's not a question; it's a statement. The brunette simply grins, blushing furiously. And Maura's stunned beyond belief. At the level of emotion her friend has portrayed in that one not-so-simple song that would take a normal person years to practice but which she has seemingly done with ease, at the fact that some who's 'not very good' has just played a technical piece with such precision and supinity. Their ice-cream long forgotten._

_"I play."_

_._

"You can come closer you know?" The brunette's voice draws the blonde out of her musings, startling her slightly. She realizes in the minutes she's been standing there, the detective has since moved on to a new piece. It's staggered, much like the first as the brunette's fingers acclimatize to the distance some of the notes have to be and suddenly, she's overwhelmed with this deep pressing need to go back in time and save the brunette from her past, from Hoyt; she wants it with a vengeance. She's never hated him more for taking the one thing Jane had truly been able to lose herself in; that had been her comfort. She goes to stand at the side of her, slightly behind, yet not quite out of sight. Casting a quick glance over the detective, she decides to take her chances.

She sits beside her.

They do this for a while. Jane playing, Maura sitting till Maura breaks the silence between them as the music continues to wash over.

"I spoke to Mother a few weeks ago." She pauses for a second, as she looks down at her hands deciding whether or not to continue. Something makes her want to. "She told me of your visit. Of how she'd realized she'd been wrong." The brunette hits a wrong note but carries on regardless. "Fourteen years," she whispers. At this, Jane stops playing. The brunette simply looks at her. Silently. Patiently. Waiting for her next words. With Maura, there always was a deeper meaning.

"I'm sorry," she says, finally looking up meeting dark eyes. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice a bit stronger, "for what I said at the crime scene. I-I wasn't-I wasn't questioning your authority or your ability to do your job. I simply wanted to keep you safe."

_I don't want to lose you._

The brunette drops her head pressing the thumb of one hand into the scar on the other. "I know," she admits. "I overreacted too. I was way out of line. Ever since I got back, people have been waiting for that other shoe to drop, for me to break. I'm not weak..."

"You're not," she agrees.

"I'm not going to fall on the ground and start shaking and crying and they're all...they're all waiting for that to happen." She balls her fists hard. Maura sees it, reaches towards her and gently, uncurls her fingers, rubbing circles just above the scars to alleviate the pain. The sound of relief whooshes past the detective's lips, her eyes flutter close. Less than a minute later she opens them again, waiting for hazel eyes to meet her own.

"I'm sorry," she says when they do. Maura simply nods in response.

"I hate the fact that she kept me away from you for so long. So many years..." The blonde looked up from the task she had taken over. "She knew where you were, that you were here, that you were home. I-I don't want to spend another sixteen years without you. I don't think I could survive it." Her words make the detective's heart ache. It's amazing, their ability to flit from one topic to the other, leaving it untouched before coming back to it again. It's just like it was sixteen years ago.

"She did it because she loved you."

"Logically, that doesn't make sense," Maura says, shaking her head, "If she loved me, she would have told me. That you were back. That you had wanted to get in contact."

There's the ghost of a smile on upturned lips before she turns sombre once again. "Love never does," Jane says quietly. And she's right, Maura realises. This feeling she's felt for sixteen years has never made sense, nor did it do so when she first met the brunette sixteen years ago. But she's also right in saying that her mother had done it because she loved her. Jane had already walked out of her life once. There was nothing to say she wouldn't do it again. And if she did...she'd be in exactly the same place she's been in for the past sixteen years. Only this time, she doesn't know if she would have made it through. If it had happened again.

_She was trying to protect her. _

In the_ only _way she_ knew how. _"And besides," Maura's drawn back from her musings to hear Jane continue, "if she hadn't you wouldn't be as brilliant as you are now, you would never have gained your full potential."

"We would have made it work," she argues.

"At your expense?"

"I would have done _anything_ for you, gone _anywhere_," she stresses.

"And I for you. But that's exactly my point." Maura feels like she's pulling hairs. "I was never gonna be anything more than a cop. I _am_ never going to be more than a cop."

_I need you to realize what you're getting yourself into._

"I won't let you go."

_Not again._

_Not this time._

It would be like living without the air one requires to be able to breathe.

"And I'm willing to take it at your pace. On whatever terms you deem necessary. Just...please..." And it was a

_Please don't run._

_Please say yes._

"Please say you'll at least think about it."

Jane chuckled softly at the very matter of fact way the latter had been spoken. It was typically Maura. Blunt. To the point. But it also signified that she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"I've nothing to offer you."

"I just want you."

Jane ran a scarred hand through unruly tresses.

"I'm damaged goods, Maur." She's giving her an out. She has been since halfway through this conversation.

But Maura doesn't want it.

She wants Jane.

Just Jane.

"No. No, you're not." Turning herself slightly, she brings her hands up to cup her face, willing her to look her in the eyes. "You're the strongest person I know, Jane Rizzoli. Put anyone else in your shoes, lay before them your history, they wouldn't have survived. They wouldn't have been able to pick themselves up and go on. They would have crumbled."

"Did I...?"

_Survive?_

The words are but a whisper. They're barely heard. But Maura hears them. And she knows exactly what it is the detective before her is asking.

"You're here, aren't you?"

The detective considers this for a second before she gets up, positions herself side ways on the bench so that each leg is on either side. She tugs the blonde towards her; closer. The ME moves. She doesn't even have to think about it. This is where she belongs; right next to the brunette. And she leans in as Jane's arms draw round her, bringing her even closer still. So close that she can smell the hint of lavender and that one unnameable thing that has always been uniquely Jane. So close that her head is able to take purchase in the crook of the detective's neck. And she closes her eyes, drawing on the comfort the brunette's presence brings as she rests her chin atop of Maura's head. They sit there: milliseconds, seconds, minutes. And then she hears it.

"You are my home."

* * *

**So. Whaddya think? ;P**


	14. Chapter 14

**You'll all be pleased to see that this chapter is an extremely long one. In fact, it's the longest one I've written yet but somehow I don't think that's going to appease you given that you're all hardcore Rizzoli and Isles fans and as with all the stories you've read, can't wait to find out what happens next. I know the feeling. I'm like that myself. Lol. **

**I've changed the plot a bit with regards to where Dean comes in during the whole Hoyt returning situation. I just thought I'd let you all know in case you wonder why it seems to not be in sequence.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 14

It's well past midnight by the time you both decide to call it a day. And it's definitely been a long one. By silent agreement, the two of you head to your house where she ends up collapsing on the bed, shoes and all. It's been long. It's been emotional. You bend down to unzip her boots, leaving them in front of your closet. It's a habit you still can't stand but for tonight, you'll let it slide and do it for her. You take out your set of pajamas for the night.

_I won't be long._

She nods in acknowledgement as you head into the bathroom where you remove your makeup, your earrings and your dress and step into the shower to wash away the day's exhaustion and grime. By the time you're done and come back into the room to announce that the bathroom is free for her to use, you find her fast asleep, a peaceful expression on her face. So unlike her every day one. And you smile. Because this is a version of her that you only get to see once in a while, but with the gigantic step the two of you have taken, you hope it's one you'll get to see on a more frequent basis. You cast your mind back to earlier and smile. The thought of her words bring butterflies and peace and contentment. And a whole lot of hope and suspense for what is yet to come.

_You're walking on the sidewalk, hand in hand simply enjoying the company of the other. She's been deep in thought since you two left the bar, and quite frankly so have you. But then she stops. And you don't expect it, because the head you've been resting against her shoulder falls from its place, and you too stop. A couple of steps in front, but still linked as always. You watch her bite her bottom lip thoughtfully before she begins._

_"I know we have a history, but I want to take it slow." You don't say anything. You simply wait. Let her continue. "I want to take you out on dates, get to know each other again, bring you flowers, get you to eat candy floss and ride on the bumper cars, take a walk with you down by the harbor, hold your hand, kiss you in public...and definitely in private," she adds as if it's an afterthought. "I want to court you."_

_And you grin as your heart swells with love. Because everything she's said is so cute and adorable and utterly romantic. It's just so Jane. You won't tell her that though. Not in front of other people. After all, your detective has a reputation to maintain. And your smile grows bigger as it occurs to you that you've referred to her as yours. And not for the first time. It's something you've done ever since you first got together. Because that's the way it's always been. And that's the way it will always be. Because this time...this time, you're not letting her go. She looks at you a little uncertainly till you realize you've yet to answer._

_"Okay," you say._

* * *

_The next morning..._

Jane sat at her desk twirling her pen between her fingers, deep in thought. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of Maura, just floors below, and the recent change in their relationship. Waking up this morning, her long honey blonde locks in a mess across her chest, one arm having settled on her waist and her head in the crook of her neck had been both amazing and natural. It had been a dream come true. She sighed as her eyes went back to the file in front of her. She couldn't help but feel as if she were missing something. She checked her watch. How was it only 8.30 in the morning? It had felt like forever.

Hearing the familiar click-clack of expensive heels on a well-worn floor, she glanced up to see the blonde who had been the subject of her musings only moments ago, walk through the doors. She gave her a brilliant smile, Jane acknowledging with a small grin of her own.

"Anything?"

The ME shook her head. "I'm sorry. No. I've gone over the body but there doesn't seem to be anything."

"Sure you didn't miss something?" she teased.

Maura flushed. "I do not miss things, Jane Rizzoli," she hissed, tone indignant. "I'll have you know that I am very good at what I do. I didn't get to where I am now by making careless mistakes..."

Jane let out a bark of laughter, reaching for the blonde whose words had trailed off in recognition that she was being teased, the simple "oh" being as much as she could muster.

Drawing the smaller woman towards her, right hand in her left, she positioned her between her legs, placing her other hand on the blonde's left thigh. "Still ever so modest I see..." Her words received a light slap on the arm from the blonde who was now blushing furiously at both the fact that she had failed yet again to pick up on an obvious social cue, and most significantly, at their close proximity to each other. In all honesty, she had been uncertain as to level of affection and public display Jane would be willing to give given the fact that she was in a male-dominated workforce and especially, given their history and it had been on her mind all morning. But here she was, mere inches from the brunette, in full sight of everyone. And she seemingly didn't have a care in the world. She looked down at the brunette who appeared to be completely relaxed and at ease despite the nature of their current case and the personal nature in which she involved.

"Still nothing?"

Jane sighed for the second time in as many minutes, bringing the blonde impossibly closer. She changed their position slightly, moving her hands to grip Maura's hips, her forehead resting on the blonde's stomach. She shook her head despondently. Maura gently threaded her hands through Jane's hair, her touch soft and soothing. She continued to do this for a few minutes, allowing the brunette to gather her thoughts but eventually, even she knew they had to break out of the bubble they had encased themselves in and get back to work.

"What are you thinking?"

Jane buried her head further, breathing in the scent she loved so much before letting out a puff of air causing the honey blonde to giggle a little at her antics and the puff of warm that flitted across her stomach. She raised her head, her gaze somber and serious. Maura sobered at the intensity of the look before her. It wasn't a good look. It was apprehensive and uncertain and determined all mingled into one.

"Jane?"

"I think I need to go and see Hoyt."

* * *

The drive to the prison had been a long and taxing one for the brunette. Maura had wanted to come along in support but somehow Jane had managed to persuade her to stay. She had given her the file, asking her to go through it once more to see if there was anything she herself had missed. The honey blonde had been upset at Jane not wanting her to be there but had eventually acquiesced telling her to 'stay safe' and not let him get to her.

Now here she was, sat in front of the table that would be the only thing to separate the two of them, Frost and Korsak in one corner like bulldogs waiting to pounce, waiting to be given the go-ahead. It was kinda funny really, she thought. Her attention snapped back at the sound of the prison interrogation door being drawn open, the sound of shackles scrapping along the floor, a chair being drawn back...and then her gaze rose to meet his own, eyes resting on the hideous face that had tormented her dreams for months.

"Hello Jane." His voice slithered into her consciousness like a snake.

"Hoyt." Her acknowledgement brought a sinister smile to his lips. She fought the urge to cringe.

"I haven't seen you since the trial, Jane."

She cut to the chase. "See one, do one, teach one," she said, standing up, choosing to sit on the edge of the table diagonally across from him as she slammed down the file she'd had in her hands to the picture of their victim. "Who did you teach?" Credit where credit was due, the serial killer barely glanced at the picture let alone showed any sign of recognition. Instead, he simply smiled at her again as his brow quirked up.

"Janie, Janie, Janie...don't you remember all of our _wonderful_ conversations down in that basement..? I didn't graduated from medical school. I dropped out."

She cocked her head sideways. "That's right," she said, seemingly having recalled, "you were kicked out. For fondling a corpse," she sneered, leaning towards him. Internally, she berated herself for reacting. _Get it together, Rizzoli!_ Hoyt's eyes narrowed marginally before the look in his eyes disappeared. He smiled sadistically, studying her contemplatively and with a great deal of interest.

"Oh very good, Janie," he complimented, "you've learnt how to irritate me."

He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes as he did so, before opening them once again.

"Do you smell that, Janie?" He lifted his head once again, breathed and then exhaled. "It smells like...lavender and...fear..."

_I will not let you get to me._

"Answer the question."

"Let's talk about nicer things...more interesting things..." Her interest was caught. _What the hell did he mean? _"I understand you've made a friend, Jane." He pretended to think to himself for a moment. "A one Doctor Isles I believe. Beautiful, beautiful woman if I do say so myself." For the first time since he entered the room, Jane felt the clench of fear. _Maura. _She struggled not to react, to keep her expression neutral. Her hands however, balled into fists.

"Tell me what you did to-"

He clucked disapprovingly. "Oh no, Janie. No talk about morbid things. The prison itself is morbid enough. No. It's time for brighter, lighter things. Like Doctor Isles. She's smart, I hear. Very. And oh so very pretty. Don't you think?"

_You come anywhere near her and I'll rip your fucking head off...Jane... _The brunette could literally hear the ME's voice telling her to stay calm. Somehow, she brought herself under control.

"What does she have to do with any of this?"

"Everything," he replied, eyes glittering, leaning forward. "It's all about you, Jane. Don't you see? It's always been about you. I need to know how you've been doing. And the doctor...well, she's a part of you, a part of your life. Do you realize how long it's been-"

"I'm aware of the time," she replied, neutrally, keeping her voice even.

"It's important...to know what you treasure...what causes you pain..." his eyes flickered down to her hands briefly before going back up to her eyes. She resisted the urge to clasp them, stuff them in her pockets and hide them. "I want to see them," he breathed softly. He continued. "They used to play the piano, didn't they? Tell me..." he murmured, cocking his head to one side, "do you still play?"

She considered the man before her cautiously, debating which way to play it. She decided to play along. She got up and walked slowly towards him, arms outstretched, palms facing him.

"Good as new," she replied coolly, placing them down in front of him. "Now, it's your turn. Tell me who you trained."

He ignored her, instead letting her close proximity be used as an advantage as his gaze raked up her long neck.

"Such a beautiful neck...so tempting to just run my blade across that neck of yours." His gaze rose to meet hers. "Do you dream about me, Jane?" _Do not react, do not react. _He took her silence as acknowledgement. "Tell me, Jane. What would you like to do to me?" At this, she snapped.

Jane leaned in, voice low. "I'd like to get my gun, put it in your mouth, and pull the trigger." Hoyt merely chuckled.

"No, no, no. Oh, Jane," he sighed, as if disappointed, "haven't I taught you anything? It's much better to do it slowly. Take your time. Feel the blood on your fingertips. It bothers me you know. The fact that I never got to finish what I started with you. Because I always finish what I start."

"Too bad you'll never get the chance."

"Do you dream about me, Jane?" he asked again. _Many times_, she thought. _You're in my every waking nightmare. _"Because I dream about you."

"I don't even think about you. But I'll tell you what," she said, playing along, "if you tell me who your damn friend is, I'll visit you every single day. So..? Who killed Doctor Yaeger, and where is his wife?"

The sounding of the buzzer went off. Hoyt perked up. "It appears our time is up, detective." He stood as the prison guard took his place behind him. Watching him make his way out, she became desperate.

"I do dream about you!" she called out. He stopped, back towards her before he turned slowly to face her, a sinister, yet triumphant look casting his gaunt features.

"You're right, Jane. I should play fair. My friend is out there." Jane felt a shiver run through her as he looked at her, his eyes conveying all she needed to know. That she was screwed. That there was an apprentice.

"Enjoy him, Jane," he called out softly, "because he will enjoy you." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Maura rode up the few floors between the morgue and the bullpen eager to set her sights on the brunette. Over an hour ago, she had received a text from Frost informing her that they were on their way back. And it had not gone well. The fact that she had yet to hear from the brunette plus the fact that she had not garnered a single new piece of evidence or information had set her on edge.

Entering the bustling place for the second time that morning, her eyes roamed till they landed on the lone figure that sat hunched over at her desk, fingers rubbing away at scars, methodically, almost...unthinkingly. Cautiously, she made her way over, choosing to put herself in the detective's line of sight rather than behind where she was most likely to scare more easily. She caught Barry's gaze. He simply shrugged, pretending to go back to his work but his face showed concern. Korsak too, sat at his desk, one eye on the detective, another on the animal video in front of him. Silently, the two acknowledged the other.

"Jane?" She crouched down in front of her, her smaller hand going to still the momentum the brunette had going on her own. Maura almost sighed with relief when she met her gaze.

"Hey, Maur." She gave her a shaky smile as if to say everything was okay.

_Bring her back to ground level. Get her to maintain eye contact, _Maura repeated, over and over to herself.

"Did you get what you wanted?" The question seemed to do the trick as it slowly registered in the brunette's mind, snapping her back to attention. There was no point in her asking how it went. That much was evident from the air of despondency that had seemingly cast over the three detectives.

"No," she said, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "All it did was confirm what we already knew which is that he has an apprentice out there." Maura ran a concerned eye over the detective before going to stand behind her, hands on shoulders, slowly kneading away the tension that had gathered from the morning's events. The effect was almost immediate, but then again, Maura's touch had always soothed her. She leaned back into the blonde, one hand going up and across her chest to her shoulder to grasp the ME's where it was now resting. Maura bent slightly to press a kiss into the side of the detective unruly curls.

"Would you like to go to lunch with me?" she asked, continuing her movement on Jane's neck with her remaining free hand.

"Do we have to? What you're doing now feels kinda good." Her words brought a smile to the ME's face.

"Say, if you're going out, can you bring something back for me?" Korsak piped up from his corner. Jane's eyes snapped open as she scowled at her mentor.

"Shouldn't you be on carrot sticks or something like you're personal trainer advised?"

Korsak shrugged nonchalantly. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Keep telling yourself that, old man," she retorted. Frost chortled, causing the detective sergeant to shoot a dark look over.

"Watch it, kid. I may be old, but I can still keep you on your toes."

"Can you even see your toes?" he asked not quite so innocently. The only response was the whizzing of a ball of paper as it hit him squarely on the back of the head.

"Ow!" he complained, feigning hurt. Maura chuckled at the banter between the three detectives, shaking her head.

"Come on," she said, giving Jane a squeeze, "let's go get something to eat."

The brunette sat up, rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck in the process. The ME frowned.

"Jane, you really shouldn't do that. It only encourages hypermobility of your joints which results in the ligaments becoming weak and the small muscles that connect one vertebra to the next will only become tight, causing them to work harder to make up for the loss of stability due to the lax ligaments." The detective just gave her her signature 'really' look as she picked up her blazer, putting her hand on the small of the ME's back to gently guide them out. She went to say something but a suit standing halfway across the bullpen caught her attention as they went to move past. She gave him an icy stare but the man before her barely blinked.

"Can I help you?"

"Special Agent Dean, F..."

Jane bristled. "BI. Yeah I know." She waved off his introduction and effectively interrupted the annoying man in front of her. Cutting to the chase, "What do you want?" The hand at the small of her back which came from one Doctor Isles calmed her, as did the whisper of warning of her name from the good doctor's lips.

"Jane." The detective relaxed slightly but by no means did she back down. She didn't trust the fibbies. Not after the last time. Not after Hoyt. She watched as his gaze went to the badge that hung from her hip before going back up to face her. He appeared to be processing something in his mind and she waited somewhat impatiently till whatever it was finally clicked.

Realizing the brunette was not going to introduce herself, he did it for her. "You must be Detective Rizzoli, and...?"

"Doctor Maura Isles."

"Pleasure to meet you both." He stuck his hand out in invitation but it was only accepted by the shorter of the two women.

"Trust me, the pleasure's not mine," Jane growled. "Again, what do you want?"

Dean raised an eyebrow in response. He'd heard the rumors of Detective Rizzoli's character, but he never thought she would be this delightful to encounter.

"You'll have to forgive Detective Rizzoli," Maura smoothly interjected, shooting a look in Jane's direction as she opened her mouth in protest, eventually settling on glowering at the agent, "She gets cranky when she hasn't had her afternoon dose of caffeine, but as I believe the detective rightly asked, what is it that you want?" By this time, both Frost and Korsak had come to join the two woman, standing to one side as if to form a barricade, standing there in support. At the doctor's question, their mouths fell agape, gazes batting back and forth between the doctor, the detective and the agent. Korsak for his part couldn't believe the effect the good doctor had on the brunette. She had listened. For once. Frost on the other hand was amazed and ever so slightly intimidated by the professional mask the blonde had slipped on, stepping up to take on the task of getting to the root of the agent's presence and in doing so, ever so smoothly indicating from the tone of her voice that whilst she would be civil to the man, he was obviously not welcome among them. This was class. All that was missing was the popcorn and the big comfy seats. Dean wisely chose not to comment.

"It came to our attention the homicide and possible kidnapping of relevant members of the Yaeger family. I'm here to help. I've put out an APB on Gail Yaeger." Frost stepped up, anger hovering at the surface but it was Jane who beat him to the chase.

"Yeah, because you guys did such a swimming job of it before." And she's referring to the way they screwed up; the way they didn't take her seriously when on pure gut instinct, she had told them it was Hoyt. They didn't take her seriously. To them, she was just a rookie detective, a single woman in the swarm of men that dominated the field. They thought they knew better. Korsak flushed. While he knew the barb wasn't aimed at him, he still can't help but feel guilty at the thought that he should have done more; that he should have persuaded them harder, more convincingly that she was right; he should have gone with her.

"We're on the same side here, detective." Jane growled, deep and low, and just from a sideways glance, the ME can tell she's about to fly at him. Her fists are clenched hard and there's fire in her eyes. She placed a steadying hand round the brunette's arm.

"At ease, detective." Once again, both Frost and Korsak are in awe of the effect the ME's presence has over their partner. Because she doesn't attack. She doesn't do anything that would cause her heaps more trouble, and keep her away from her job any longer. She stays. And she stands. And it kills her to do it. But it's the statement the blonde makes next that leaves her more than a little caught of guard.

"After the way things turned out the last time, I'm surprised you guys have the nerve to turn up." It's cool and collected and much like the unruffled medical examiner who stands before them. It makes Jane wonder just how much Maura knows because as far as she can recall, she's hardly talked about it; she doesn't like to. Dean at least, has the good grace to blush. He knows they screwed up, but it's not something the FBI will ever admit to; not on record anyway.

"You've carried out the autopsy?"

"Of course," she bristled. "Yesterday. As was per procedure."

"And?"

"Carotid artery and jugular were cut with precision. But I think you already know that," she replied, indicating to the folder Dean held in his hands.

"I'd like to see the body. Plus, there is something I'd like to discuss with you. Something I require your expertise with."

"What for?"

Dean shrugged. "I'd like to check over your work. Compare it to our previous case - the one in which we worked alongside BPD with. Check the facts and such. Make sure nothing's been missed." It was vague to say the least. The tops of three pairs of brows go up.

_Uh oh,_ they thought. _And seriously..?! What the hell..?!_

Maura didn't even blink.

"Do you have any medical knowledge? Get a degree in human biology? Have any significant and extensive knowledge in the area of pathology? Were you here since the start of this case?"

"Doctor Isles..."

"I am the Chief Medical Examiner" she states, her voice full and authoritative, yet soft and warning, "You do not get to waltz in here and imply that I missed something just like you do not get to come in and try and take over the case like you did the last time which while resulted in a positive outcome, was not positive all round. I did not get to where I am via shoddy work and mistakes. My morgue, my rules," she states, her voice final. "Do we understand each other?" Dean nods albeit meekly. "You can come down after lunch," she allows. Right now, he'll take what he can get. She looks to the brunette as if to say she's ready to go, effectively ending the conversation. Jane simply nods, giving a full blown smirk at the agent who's just been put in his place and follows the blonde. Frost and Korsak are grinning like fools.

Leaving the bullpen, the detective's step has infinitely more swagger than it did when they had first attempted to leave. She's a bit taken aback by this version of the blonde. It's very...mama bear-ish. And she quite likes it. She's proud. That's _her_ girl.

Score one - Maura.

* * *

**Keep the comments coming guys. It's always appreciated!**


	15. Chapter 15

**So here we are onto the fifteenth chapter. Gosh, it's gone by so fast. I didn't think it would last this long. ****I'm glad the last chapter got at least a few chuckles. I spent long enough on it, as I'm sure you all will agree after having had to wait so long.**

**To JC.13.05 - your review was fantastic. Perked me right up. It's good to hear that you're enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it. And thank you for the compliment. I'm sure there are other stories out there that are just as good. I know I've read a fair few. ****cjunited38 - as Part-time Shipper rightly said, a 'fiesty Maura, with finesse, SO HOT!' ****There was one review that made me laugh. I believe it was left by rehellams. To quote his/her words, 'FBI is eviscerated. Maur-Bear and her Pack are at peace again. her dominance reigns.' Loved it.**

**So I've decided to make this another extremely long chapter because guess what? The next chapter, chapter 16, you get to find out what happened between Maura and Jane that caused Jane to disappear. All for symbolism's sake and what with it being in keeping with the title of this fic. I know you're all dying to find out. I certainly would be if another author kept me on tenterhooks for this long! On another note, we're almost at the 100 mark for reviews! How awesome is that!**

**Ok, enough talk from me. We've got a chapter to get on with!**

* * *

Chapter 15

The silent buzzing of a phone alight on Maura's bedside table interrupted the pleasant dream the honey blonde had been having as she slowly woke to the noise. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, the two had fallen into bed exhausted from the toll the case was taking. Opening one eye, she glanced over at the clock which read it was just gone 6am. Groaning slightly, she snuggled deeper into the warmth that she had encased herself in only hours ago. She was warm, she was comfortable; she didn't want to move. She was in Jane's arms. For the first time, she found herself resenting the erratic hours her job presented. She just wanted to stay cocooned in this moment. She tightened her grasp on the brunette's waist, burrowing deeper into unruly curls.

The stirring of the body beneath her informed her the detective was starting to wake as yet another phone went off. A long arm reached out, fumbling for just a second before contact was made. Bringing the phone to her ear, fingers working on automatic as they slid to answer, eyes still closed, the raspy tone of a sleepy detective filled the room.

"Rizzoli." It went quiet for a moment before she spoke again. "Yeah ok gimme 20." There was silence yet again only for it to be broken once more. "Yeah I'll tell her. Yesss we will see you there. Yes, she's with me, and yes, we will be arriving together. None of your damned business, Frostbite," she ground out. Exasperation evident in the brunette's tone, Maura bit back a smile. Hanging up, the hand flopped back onto the bed. "I know you're awake."

"I plead the fifth," came the mumbled response. Jane chuckled.

"You know this is only gonna get harder, the longer we take to get out of bed."

Blonde curls shifted slightly. Jane looked down to see sleepy hazel eyes peering up at her. "But I'm comfy..." she whined. "And warm. And I kind of like our position..." she admitted shyly.

Pressing a kiss to her girlfriend's head, she said, "I kind of like it too."

* * *

By the time they both got there, the place was swarming with cops, CSU and reporters alike. Holding up the crime scene tape for the honey blonde who gave an appreciative smile in response, they made their way over, Jane all the time having one hand at the dip in the blonde's back just in case. God only knew how she walked in those heels. Leaving the ME to process the body, she went over to Frost, safely standing on the sidelines.

"What've we got?"

"Body of a white female believed to be Gail Yaeger. Dog found her," he said, indicating to the animal who was now sitting obediently by his owner's side.

The detective's gaze fell on the animal before flitting round their surroundings. She whistled incredulously. "Lucky find."

Her partner nodded. "Yeah. Clever things. If it hadn't been for him, we wouldn't have found her till at least summer." Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Agent Dean making his way towards them. She scowled. Being woken up with barely four hours of sleep was one thing. Being woken up and having to spend time in the presence of the condescending little FBI twerp was quite another.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

"I was in the area."

"Why is it everyone's suddenly so lucky today?" she muttered. Frost snorted in response, having understood the joke. They shared a knowing look. Dean only sighed.

"Jane." The detective looked over to see her girlfriend beckoning her over. Dutifully, she went to Maura's side. ""Vitreous potassium," she stated holding the vial up. Seeing the detective's blank look, she quickly clarified. "It helps us determine the postmortem interval."

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

Maura gave her a sheepish look. Turning her attention back to the vial in hand, she gave it a little shake. "Nice and clear. She's been dead about 36 hours." Jane nodded as the ME turned back to the body.

"Look at the body. How it's laid out. It's like she's simply taking a nap or reading a novel," she mused as if to herself.

"It's odd, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Why didn't he bury her?" she wondered out loud.

Dean stepped up. "Didn't have time," he said. Just then, his phone rang and he stepped away to take the call. The detective shot him a dark look.

_Yes, thank you. That was very useful I must say._ _FBI and their crappy excuse for an existence._ She turned to face the ME finding herself once again by her side. Maura looked up; her expression was one of concern. Snapping off her gloves, she laid a hand on the brunette's arm.

"He's not worth it, Jane." Acknowledging her words with a great deal of reluctance, she helped the honey blonde up.

"Doesn't mean I don't get to wind him up and give him a bit of attitude here and there," she responded cheekily.

She was rewarded with a small smile from the blonde. "As long as that's all you do," she warned as she brushed back a stray curl. The detective shrugged noncommittally. There would be no promises on her part.

"Do me a favor yeah?" Maura tilted her head in curiosity. "When you do the autopsy, can you do a wet prep?"

Her request puzzled the ME. "Why? It's not standard procedure."

The detective sighed. She couldn't explain it. And Maura wasn't exactly the type of person who worked based on gut feelings. Meeting Maura's eyes, she replied, "Just..just trust me on this okay?"

The ME nodded. "Okay." Grateful for the support, Jane pressed a playful kiss on her girlfriend's nose. "Right, I'd better go find Frost, see where he's escaped to. You'll be okay getting back right?"

Maura huffed in mock annoyance. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Jane Rizzoli."

"Oh I don't doubt that Doctor Isles. I don't doubt that at all," she said as she started to walk away. "In fact," she called out, turning, "you're quite cute and adorable when you get all riled up and mama-bearish." And with that, she left the good doctor standing where she was; blushing furiously.

* * *

A good four hours later, Maura came up to the bullpen which was relatively quiet given the time of day. Report in hand, she walked over to where the three of them sat, depositing it on the brunette's desk who looked up in surprise. She hadn't heard her come in.

"I carried out the test as you requested." Her brow quirked up. "Deposited postmortem," she said, indicating to the file that was now lying open. "How did you know?"

Jane shrugged. "I didn't."

"Yes, you did. It's not standard procedure to check for evidence of necrophilia."

"Call it a gut feeling." Maura frowned. There was no way she could sign off on the paperwork saying she had done it based on the intestines of a certain cop, but for now she put her slight dilemma to one side. Understanding she wasn't going to get any more from the detective, she let it go, changing the subject in the process. "Shall we do lunch?"

The brunette grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Having decided that today's discovery had been enough excitement for one morning, the two women had retreated to the relative silence and comfort of the morgue where they were currently eating tuna out of a tin when Agent Dean strolled in, Frost and Korsak trailing behind. He took in the tins in their hands.

"Are you guys eating cat food?"

"Yeah, you want some?" the brunette asked, smirking, thrusting what remained of her tuna in his face. The agent backed off slightly wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"No."

She feigned disappointment. "Oh well, I guess it's a chick thing," she joked but her words garnered no laughs. She took in the way Frost shifted from one foot to another rather nervously and the grim look on Korsak's face and immediately she knew something was off.

"What's up?"

"You may want to sit down."

She frowned. _Okay, this was so not normal._ "No. Tell me."

Dean chanced a glance at the two men behind him. Quickly concluding he was going to get absolutely no help from them, he decided to dive right in; rip the bad aid off as it were. "A few hours ago, Charles Hoyt escaped custody."

Whatever come back the detective had ready, whooshed out of her mind, taking with it all semblance of rational thought and air. Seeing the detective's state, Maura quickly went to her side.

"Oh, my God." Her mind was whirring, thoughts and memories of the last time Hoyt had captured her surfaced to mind. It filled her with panic and the room in front of her swam. Maura did a swift assessment, taking her place in front of the detective as she cupped her face in her hands in an attempt to ground her, constantly but consistently saying her name quietly. Eventually it worked.

"When? How?" she demanded. She had a right to know for god's sake.

"He was brought to the hospital infirmary after suffering pains in his stomach. A brief check over by the doctor there confirmed he was suffering from appendicitis."

"Appronesia metriosis" Maura whispered as it dawned on her. Four heads swiveled her way."It's a pill. Once taken, it would have given him an abnormal white-cell count. It mimics all the symptoms of appendicitis" she stated matter-of-factly.

Despite the sudden chaos and news that Hoyt's escape had managed to cause, Jane grinned. Trust her google-mouth of a girlfriend to have the answer. "What?" She was feeling rather uncomfortable with the confounded looks she was getting. Grinning, Jane shook her head as she pressed a kiss to the side of the ME's head.

"Don't ever change," she whispered. For the second time that day, Maura found herself turning unaccountably red. The detective's mood however once again turned somber and she turned to face the other three.

"So. What happens now?"

* * *

Jane collapsed onto the ME's bed with a visible sigh of relief, arm covering her face. Cavanaugh had sent them all home telling them not to come back till they got a full night's sleep so that they could start afresh the next day. Switching off the bathroom light, Maura settled in at the other side. Opening one eye, she grinned.

"Why do you always look like you're about to do a photo shoot?"

Maura simpered at the compliment. Or at least, what she thought to be a compliment. "Thank you," she said, going to wiggle her shoulders, "you like?" The look of mischievousness caught the ME off guard and she squealed as Jane reached out a long arm round her waist and hauled her closer. Snuggling in, she rested her head in the crook of the brunette's neck, sighing contentedly. They lay there for a few minutes before Jane eventually broke the silence.

"So, how long can a person go without sleeping?"

"Hallucinations begin by day four, followed by slurred speech, short attention span, and death."

"You're better than Wikipedia," she joked. The reference took her back to one of the first few days she had spent in the brunette's presence when after having spouted some random fact, Jane had merely grinned saying the exact same thing. As much as they both knew they had a lot to talk about regarding what had gone on, for now their past could wait. She put it to one side.

"So you've said before but Wikipedia is frequently incorrect. Very little is rigorously peer-reviewed." A knock on the door caused the detective to startle but a quick hand on the detective's chest and the whisper of a few reassuring words was all it took for her to lay back down as the ME went to answer. However, curiosity got the better of her and she found herself tiptoeing over to the bedroom door and opening it just a crack before she scowled for what was the upteenth time that day. Agent Dean. Seeing their conversation coming to a close, she resumed her previous position on the bed as she wondered what the hell the agent wanted at this time of the night. The click of the door and subsequent dip in the bed as the blonde took up her place back by the brunette's side brought the detective out of her musings.

"What did he want?"

"He was just dropping something off. He wanted my opinion on another case," came the vague response.

"What case?"

Maura sighed knowing what she was about to say would cause problems. "I can't say," she replied uncomfortably.

"Fine. Go sleep in your own room."

The ME rolled her eyes. "Jane...this is my room."

"Oh...yeah."

A sudden thud broke the tension between them, causing the detective to bolt upright, her heart rate hammering incessantly, pounding away mile a minute. She reached for her gun but was quickly stopped by Maura who placed a reassuring hand on her arm, squeezing softly.

"It's okay, Jane. It was just Bass," she soothed. "Really, it's okay." She let Maura guide her back onto the bed.

"I've never been so scared in all my life." The admission was quiet, almost to the point of being hushed. The ME moved up the bed, turning the detective into her arms as she ran dainty hands through thick curls.

"You're not alone, Jane. I'm here," she soothed, "and I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

_"Jane? We've got another one."_

"You look like you slept under an overpass," her partner commented as soon as she got out of her car. He ran a keen eye over his old friend, taking in her disheveled state.

"And you wonder why you're still single." she deadpanned. He merely grinned.

"Maura arrive ok?" Jane shrugged. She didn't really want to discuss it. Two days after Dean's visit to the ME's abode, the FBI had requested her help for this 'other' case she couldn't talk about. So much for her being here.

What've we got? she asked as they stepped up to the body. Frost flicked through his notebook.

"Name's John Ghant. His wife, Karena, is missing."

"No sign of a teacup this time."

"You know what that means."

"He didn't need a warning device because he was here. His accomplice too."

* * *

_Back at BPD..._

"I'm looking for a uh..." the man glanced at the paper in his hand, "a Detective Rizzoli?" At the mention of her name, Jane swiveled round in her chair.

"Over here."

"Sign here, please." He sounded bored. Taking the pen, she quickly scribbled her name, reaching for the envelope that had been left on her desk, ignoring the flowers.

"Do you think you should be doing that? What with this case and all..." her partner asked. He was watching it warily as if it was going to sprout wings and start flying across the room. Slowly, she withdrew her hand. He was right. With Hoyt and his apprentice out there, they needed to preserve every piece of evidence so that they could at least get a rough idea as to where he might be, or even who his accomplice was, and the envelope could very well hold the clue to it all. She opened her drawer taking out a pair of surgical gloves and put them on. Taking hold of the small package, she opened it, dumping its contents out.

There were dozens of them.

Pictures.

Of her.

Taken at some point during the week. Her outside her apartment, her in her car, her at the supermarket the one time she had stopped by the get her usual six pack, her at the coffee shop waiting in line, and her at the crime scene. He'd been at the crime scene. He's been watching her this whole time. In among the pile was a small note which simply read: Henry Dedubuto. And suddenly, whatever pallor she had left, disappeared. She had to get out of here. She had to be anywhere but here. And with that, she ran.

* * *

Maura picked up the phone and for what felt like the millionth time that day, tried to connect to the brunette's phone. Nothing. It just went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, she ran a hand through honey blonde locks as she recalled the conversation she had had with Frost only hours ago.

_"Oh hey, Doc!" Maura's eyes narrowed. The detective was sounding far too chipper for a man who was part of a team that was currently under copious amounts of stress in trying to catch Hoyt's apprentice and by all means, Hoyt himself._

_"Barry.." she said, evenly, giving him the impression that this was just a social call before she wheedled the truth out of the man. "How are things going?" The hesitation she heard on the other end was enough to give her pause. And then came the squeak. And just like that, she knew. She knew something had gone wrong._

_"It's just...uh..well Jane received a package."_

_"Ok...?" Only more hesitation. "And?"_

_"Anditwasabunchofphotosofjaneherselfandshejustfreaked." Maura shook her head as her brain played catch up with his quick words._

_"Sorry, you're going to have to repeat that." Frost sighed. He was in for it now._

_"A few hours ago, Jane received an envelope. It had photos of her and came with a small piece of paper that said Henry Dedubuto." The worry Maura had ever since the conversation started only grew twofold. "We've been looking at the photos. Me and Korsak." She bit back the urge to correct his grammar, choosing instead to let him continue. "We've been trying to pinpoint the places and get CCTV footage of the area, see if we can get a shot of the guy but he's smart, Doc. For every shot, he's stayed out of the cameras." She closed her eyes. He said something about a note._

_"What about the note?" _

_"No luck there either," he replied. "It's an anagram to something but we haven't figured it out yet."_

_"Ted Bundy!" Korsak's voice carried into the phone. The ME shook her head till she realized they couldn't see her._

_"No. That's five letters too long." The silence on the other end made her think their connection had been cut. That is, until Frost came back on._

_""How do you do that?" There was definite amazement in his tone. Beside him, Korsak scowled. _

_"Fine. Theodore Bundy." It made sense. _

_"Yes, quite possibly. Theodore Bundy: serial killer, rapist, kidnapper and necrophile. It certainly makes sense," she agreed. The voices of the men on the other end made her realize she had yet to hear Jane._

_"Frost."_

_"Hmmm...?" _

_"Where's Jane?" With that, he snapped back to attention. He cast a desperate glance at Korsak who shook his head determinedly, eye wide. No way was he going to be the Doc's chew toy. Not when she finds out they had no idea where their partner was. He had seen the woman in action far too much for his liking. She was intimidating to say the least. And bat shit scary when it involved the brunette. No chance. No._

_Frost shot him a dirty look, mouthing the words, "and you call yourself a man." The detective sergeant simply ignored him._

_"Frost..." The impatience in her vioce reminded him he had yet to speak. He could just imagine her standing there arms crossed, eyes narrowed, foot tapping as she awaited his answer. It reminded him of the time him and Jane had blown up the chem lab and how their chemistry teacher, Ms Livitt had borne down on them, fire embers spitting from her gaze. God, those had been good times. _

_"Frost!" He snapped out of his daydream, tweaking his collar nervously._

_"Err well you see Maura...Jane's uh...Jane's not here right now."_

_"Well then, where is she? When will she be back? I've been trying to get through to her the last couple of hours but she hasn't picked up."_

_The man sighed. "That's the thing...we don't know where she is." Maura felt her panic rise. "After seeing the photos, she just took off. She left Maura. She's gone."_

Maura sat down, head in her hands. Once she'd managed to get her sense of trepidation and stampede of terror and fear under control, she'd told the two men everything she knew, everything she had been trying to call Jane to inform her of.

_"Listen to me Frost, and listen carefully. This case I was called away for, it's linked to ours."_

_Her words begged the question. "What do you mean?" he asked._

_"This apprentice...you've heard of sheep digging?"_

_Frost scrunched up his nose. He had no idea what she was talking about. Surprisingly, it was Korsak who piped up._

_"Hey, isn't that where the CIA borrows soldiers for black op missions? I heard that all those recruited were heep-dipped. Their identities get wiped from all databases so that they wouldn't get recognized as American military." _

_"Yes," she replied. Frost was impressed._

_"Wait. So our apprentice was a soldier?" he asked._

_"I believe so, yes. The FBI are investigating a series of killings that have been disguised as war crimes in Afghanistan."_

_Korsak whistled through his teeth. "Not a bad place to choose. The entire place is a war zone." _

_"And a war zone is a serial killer's paradise," Frost said. His eyes met Korsak's as they realized they were both thinking the same thing._

_"Our apprentice is a soldier." And then it clicked._

_"Hoyt used an assumed name to try and get into a combat medic training program at Fort Stewart!" Frost started, excited that they finally had something to go on._

_"Which is where they met," Korsak finished._

_"The FBI traced the records, and found one person who remained in contact with him even after he was rejected," Maura cut in. "Our apprentice is most probably special forces officer John Stark, 32. He did three tours in Afghanistan as part of a direct action force. His address is 400 Chestnut Hill Square." The two men scrambled to their feet. _

_"We're already sending units." And with that, they hung up._

Maura pressed the backs of her hands to closed eyelids. They stung from a combination of a lack sleep and flat out worry. Being away from Boston, from the brunette had resulted in some of the most sleepless nights she'd ever had in sixteen years. She should never have come, situation be damned. She should have resisted regardless of the summons that could possibly have ended her career and put her in jail for contempt. She should have stayed like she had told her she would. Instead, here she was on the other side of the state, miles away from what would have to be one of the two most traumatic times of her detective's life, sat in the waiting area of National, waiting for a plane that would bring her back to Boston, after once again having made the wrong decision. She hadn't had a choice though, let alone a chance. The moment the brunette had left her house with the ME promising to meet her at headquarters, two very black, very official-looking cars had pulled up in front of her house before a letter was thrust in her hands informing her that she was being summoned to Quantico; refusal was not allowed. She had barely had the chance to get a suitcase together before she was being whisked away in one of the cars as it sped towards Logan International.

_"Jane?"_

_"Hey, Maur, where are you? You said you'd be here half an hour ago." The sound of her detective settled the ME immensely. She winced knowing her next words were not going to be well taken._

_"I'm in a car."_

_"Okay..."_

_"I'm heading to Logan airport."_

_Jane almost fell off her chair. What had changed in the minutes between the time the blonde had kissed her goodbye promising to meet her in the cafe to the time Jane herself had left? "What? Why?"_

_The ME chanced a glance at the agent in front of her. He didn't seem too bothered that she was discussing this. "It's the FBI. They showed up on my doorstep soon after you left. They-they want me at Quantico." The silence down the other end was deafening._

_"In the middle of this?" Maura wished she were with her. Her chest hurt as she heard the depth of vulnerability, defenselessness, subjection and yes, even betrayal in the brunette's voice._

_"I don't have a choice. It's connected to this. And if it helps our case, if it gets our killer off the streets and you home safely then I don't see what the problem is," she defended. She was beginning to get desperate. She could already tell the brunette was withdrawing. She wanted the detective to understand. If it could be any other way, she'd be right there next to her. _

_"It''s my case..he's my killer." The words made the ME tremble. She had already lost her once. She didn't want to lose her again; physically or emotionally._

_"Jane..." she beseeched._

_"Why are you part of the "need to know" loop? It's me he's trying to kill," she questioned quietly. Maura shivered at the thought that this time, he might actually be successful._

_"Jane, this case- this case is a lot bigger and far more complicated than we thought." More silence. "I want to tell you."_

_"Great. So fill me in."_

_"I've been ordered not to." Her words are but a mere whisper. Not because there's two FBI agents sitting in the car with her but because she knows how much her words will cut. If there's one thing she's operated on since she was a child, it was to have each other's backs. Be it Frankie, Frost, Tommy or Maura. She had always promised to have their backs, to look out for them, to be there for them. And here Maura was doing the exact opposite. "It involves national security."_

_"Are you kidding me?" her tone incredulous. The ME winced._

_"Jane. Jane, please understand?" she pleaded, "please, don''t hang up. I'm sorry." But her words were pointless. The brunette had already hung up; their connection had been lost._

She could kill Agent Dean; for turning up, for all the trouble he had caused. Apparently, it had been his idea to get her assistance. Her ears perked up at the sound of her flight being called and she joined the throng of passengers who had also been awaiting their flight. Handing over her boarding pass to the attendant waiting at the gate, she felt her cellphone vibrate. It's a text from Frost. Opening it up, the words make her cry out causing a passenger behind her to take her arm, hold her steady and ask whether she is okay. Somehow, she manages to nod and get her breathing under control, ignoring the hives that are starting to make an appearance right from the point she even thought about lying. Now was not the time to break down. She glances down at the message again, but she doesn't need to look at it to remember what it says.

It's simple, to the point and precise. It's four words she never wants to see again.

_It's official. Jane's missing._

* * *

**And that, dear readers, is the end of chapter 15. There are parts in the whole Hoyt recap that I have missed out; of that I am aware, but being Rizzles fans, I'm sure you know the plot fairly well so I cut out bits of it that although had plenty of humor, I felt were unnecessary. So I apologise for it being a bit piecey and for any mistakes! But I hope you liked it nonetheless. I am currently in the process of sorting out the next chapter. Unfortunately, it still needs...tweaking. I hope to have something for all you lovely readers fairly soon though. Have a good weekend!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I can't believe it! We reached the magic 100 number! Thank you all for what you've said so far. You guys have been great and thoroughly supportive.**

**Right, it's another long one I'm afraid, although somehow I don't think you guys believe a long chapter is detrimental in any way. After all, the more you get to read, the better, right? ****Anyway, we're going back to the sixteen again plot - as soon as we get this Hoyt part out of the way. I can just imagine you all skimming till you get to the good part. Lol.**

**And best of all? You get to find out what happened sixteen years ago. ;)**

* * *

Chapter 16

It's the slow and steady rumble of the vehicle that brings the brunette back to consciousness. Eyes closed, the rest of her senses heightened, she realizes her mouth has been taped and her wrists and ankles are bound. There is the smell of grease and rubber. She vaguely recalls having gotten inside her car at BPD's parking garage, starting the engine, checking both wing mirrors and then finally glancing in the rear-view mirror before her eyes widened and fear coiled. Instead of the vehicle parked behind her like she had been expecting to see, she found herself staring into eyes of the one person she didn't want to see.

The vehicle veered to the right, causing the detective to roll left and slam into the side. She groaned as her head made contact with the side of the vehicle making her aware of the throbbing sensation that had since dulled. She heard a little laugh and her eyes snapped open.

"Hello, Jane."

* * *

Where are we with the case? Maura stalked into BRIC to find Frost at the computer, Korsak beside him. Both had signs of exhaustion etched onto their faces. She had come straight from the airport not even bothering to stop by her house first to at least deposit her luggage and freshen up. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"Jane's apartment was broken into. Place was trashed. We're reviewing footage to see if we can pick up some sign of whoever it was that went in," Korsak informed her as Frost kept his eyes glued to the screen.

"You said she never left the place. You said her car is still downstairs in the parking garage." Frost nodded. His eyes never leaving the screen, he spoke for the first time.

"CSU did a thorough search of the parking garage. They found a white cloth containing traces of chloroform."

"Which means she was drugged before she was taken," Maura said. It was worse than she thought.

"Yeah. They also found small drops of blood leading towards where the van was parked. Footage from the garage shows that there was a white van parked behind, just out of range of our cameras. A man exited, walked over to Jane's car, opened the car, picked her up and carried her over to the van where she was deposited into it. She was out cold. The guy wore a baseball hat at all times, kept his head down."

"And the blood?"

"Matches Jane's." Maura felt her stomach drop. He slid the blood work results over letting her take a look for herself.

"It says here the blood found was roughly one centimeter in diameter, so not enough to be fatal." There was hope after all.

"There's something else." Something in his tone told Maura to be cautious, to not raise her expectations too high, too soon. She looked up at him to find him clicking away rather rapidly. An image came up on screen. He pressed play. In between the time the apprentice appeared taking hold of the brunette and carrying her out, the back passenger door opened and another man got out. Keeping his head down, he walked towards the van but stopped just in front of the camera. He looked up. As his face came into position and smiled that sinister smile she knew so well from all the press readings she had gone through to try and grasp what had happened to the brunette, fear coiled deep within. Her heart beat erratically. Because the face that was looking back at her was none other than the man who had been dubbed the Surgeon. He blew a kiss into the camera, giving a little wave with his fingers before getting in himself. And with that, the three of them drove away.

* * *

The van shuddered to a stop. Somewhere between laying eyes on Hoyt at the parking garage and the reaching of their destination, she had lost consciousness for yet the second time. She forced herself to open her eyes and suddenly wished she hadn't. The intensity in her head grew as they made contact with a blinding light that hung from the ceiling of the van where it had been installed. Everything was swirling and it took, but a mere minute for her vision to come back from its' blurry stage. She heard a door close, the sound of crunching coming from outside and then the fumbling of a lock as the frame of the back of the van opened. And for the first time, she came face to face with the apprentice. He wasn't much to look at. Just your average guy in the street. He simply looked at Hoyt who nodded, giving him the go-ahead. He disappeared leaving her alone with him.

"Where's he going?"

"Oh, he just getting ready for our final game. You see, Jane, I want to finish what we started. But you needn't concern yourself with that. Not yet anyway," he said dismissively. Running his eyes over her face, he frowned as his gaze rested on the very apparent wound to her temple. "You'll have to forgive my friend. I'm afraid that in his haste to get you out, he smashed your pretty face on the side of the pillar." His index finger traced the wound lightly. She tried not to flinch. "For that, I will have to teach him a lesson as to how we should treat our guests. Especially someone like you." The implication was clear. She wouldn't be the only one to die tonight; his apprentice would die tonight too.

The man in question appeared once again, signifying to Hoyt that all was ready.

"If you'll excuse me, Janie, I have something to see to before we start the fun." There was a twinkle in his eye; a sadistic one of course. One that told of the suffering that would go on. And of the pleasure he would get out of imparting it. He left the vehicle. Jane gulped. She had to get out of there. Pulling at her restraints, she found them to be tightly bound, too tight for her to wriggle her way out of her. His accomplice had been thorough. She'd have to cut through them. She wiggled around trying to find something sharp with which she could cut the bonds. There was nothing. All she found was a single flare and a small box of matches. His apprentice had been sloppy.

Hearing the sound of voices, and recognizing one of them to be Hoyt's, she quickly lay down, holding the flare between trembling hands. She heard the surgeon instruct his apprentice to give him a few minutes bringing her slight relief because it meant she that she wouldn't end up having to fight both. At least with one, she had a greater chance. The sound of footsteps and the sing song voice of "Oh Janie," alerted her and she promptly lit the flare, bringing it as close to her as possible. Stooping in the vehicle, he came closer to her, pausing as he saw smoke rising from her. "What the..." and that was when she took her chance.

Cutting his balance with her bound legs, he fell and she took the opportunity to thrust the flare in his face, shoving it in hard. He let out a strangled cry, clutching the left side of his face as he stumbled about, eventually loosing his footing and falling out onto the ground below. Seeing that he had dropped his taser, she reached for it and rolled herself out, letting out an 'oomph' as her body made contact with the ground. Still encumbered by the pain from the distress signal, she moved as quick as she could given the undesirable restraints she was in and pressed the taser to his leg. The body before her spasmed and thrashed as over fifty thousand bolts crashed through his body.

As the voice of his apprentice called out hearing the commotion, she frantically smacked the taser to the ground willing it to re-charge. Seeing his mentor on the ground and temporarily unable to move, he turned towards her. Instinctively, she started to crawl but her bound hands and feet were an obvious hindrance and without any issue at all, he towered over her, reaching and threading a hand through her hair. She felt him pull her head back before smashing it on the ground. She saw stars and coughed as she received a mouthful of dirt in the process. Turning her over, he made to put a hand to her head once again but she was slightly faster. Taking advantage of her position, she swung the lower half of her body, catching him at the knees, causing him to buckle and fall down. The gun he had held in his other hand went skidding a few yards in front. They both went for it but Jane, being slightly taller, got to it first. Twisting, she turned herself over, shooting him twice.

Still breathing hard from the struggle, in the glint of the moonlight, she spotted Hoyt's signature choice of weapon sticking out of his pocket; a scalpel. Obviously, he had it on him with the sole purpose of finishing off the job. Making her way over, she got hold of it, using it to cut away at the binds that held her. By the time she made the final cut, Hoyt was beginning to wake up from the electric stupor she had put him in. She watched as he slowly crawled towards the gun she had left lying on the ground. Standing on shaky legs, she covered the distance between them in two short steps, placing her foot on his hand just as he was about to reach for it. She applied pressure, not caring about how much; she wanted him to feel pain. He merely looked up at her and chuckled. Bending down, she picked it up. Taking it in both hands, she held it steady, his eyes daring her to even make a move. She stared at him squarely, barely feeling anything for what she was about to do. She fired off two shots; quickly and in succession. His scream of pain filled the air. In each palm, was a single bullet hole.

"Now, we match."

The scream of pain turned to manic laughter, his eyes gleamed in the moonlight. Unperturbed, she searched the van, eventually finding her phone, gun and badge in the glove compartment. She put her gun and badge back in their rightful place; on her person. Her phone however, was a lost cause. It had been smashed in an attempt to prevent any trace on her GPS. Refusing to go anywhere near the serial killer, she searched the apprentice's pockets. Her heart soared when she came across his phone. Flicking it open, she dialled 911. A voice came on the other end asking her how they could help. For a moment she was unable to find her voice as pure relief flooded through her veins but the person on the other end repeated their question, causing her to snap back to attention.

"Rizzoli, victor 825, in need of assistance. I need you to run a trace on this phone."

* * *

Sitting in the BRIC, Korsak, Frost and Maura painstakingly went over what they had over and over again. They were nothing if not thorough, but the knowledge of not knowing where their partner and lover respectively was was starting to take a toll on all of them. That and the fact that they didn't even know whether she was still alive was driving them to the point of desperation. Maura put down the papers, taking off her glasses in the process as she hung her head and gently massaged her temples.

The sound of the door opening caused them all to look up as Cavanaugh poked his head through.

"We got a 911 call from dispatch. It's Jane..."

* * *

By the time they arrive at the crime scene, the place is ablaze with squad cars, the ambulance, the coroner's van and reporters. How on earth they had managed to get wind of what happened in so short a time she'd never know. She shook her head. There were more important things to worry about for now. Like Jane. Jane. Sometime, during the forty-five minute journey, it had been agreed that it would be Maura who would go to her, tend to her while the other two would deal with the crime scene. Korsak had been the one who'd suggested it, quickly silencing the younger detective that if he were to go, he too may end up replaced. It was for the best, he said. Grudgingly, Frost had given in.

Her gaze went in search of the detective but it was her sensory overload of sound that was the first thing that alerted her to the detective who could be seen busily swatting at the hand of the EMT who was trying to attend to her, her voice loud and indignant as she insisted she was fine, and besides, it was her body, so she should know whether she was okay or not. She watched as the woman paramedic resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she tried to explain that it was just standard procedure. Maura made her way over to the pair, weaving her way through the throng of people, coming to stand beside the two. They quietened down as two pairs of eyes suddenly realized they had company, lifting to meet hers. The EMT's was filled with exasperation whilst the brunette simply scowled, a low growl emitting from the depths of her throat in hopes that it would chase the paramedic away.

"I'll take over from here," she said, addressing the paramedic but her gaze was on the brunette. She ran a swift glance about her form, taking in the injuries evident to the naked eye as well as the ones she couldn't see, the one Jane was holding the medic back from attending to via the simple hand barrier that refused to allow her to access. The EMT considered her options as eyes flitted from the woman standing before them to the doctor's bag she held in her hands. Coming to the conclusion that one, the woman obviously had medical training despite her outward appearance and two, that it was not worth the argument given the soft determination she heard in the blonde's voice and saw in her eyes, she relinquished her position, moving swiftly away. Without pause, Maura took a seat beside Jane, her eyes asking a silent 'may I' as her hands went to the detective's shirt. Taking her silence as acquiescence, she gently lifted the shirt which the brunette had been determinedly shielding from the EMT to examine the burn.

"You're back." It's the first words shared between the two. Maura momentarily stopped what she was doing and raised her eyes to meet Jane's.

"I never should have left." The detective shrugged, not committing to an answer. She wasn't sure she quite trusted herself in that respect; that the reply wouldn't hurt, wouldn't be cutting in some way. "Don't do that, Jane. Don't pull away from me." Jane sighed.

"What do you want me to say, Maura? It was business, it wasn't personal, I get it."

Cleaning up the burn, she took a small piece of gauze, slightly larger than the burn area and put it against the area, pressing lightly to stick it down. Finished with that at least, she lifted her eyes to meet the brunette's. "You are my business," she said softly. She held the brunette's gaze, determined to convey all she was feeling in one look; how sorry she was for not having been there the last few days, for not having kept her promise, how downright terrified she was when she heard she was missing, and how absolutely relieved she is to have gotten her back. But she's also determined to show her how much she cares and how much she loves her even though they've yet to say those three words. "I had a choice. I made the wrong one." Again.

"There's nothing you could have done, Maura," the detective repeated, more for her own benefit than the blonde's. Deep down she knew that if Maura had refused, she would have been summoned using force anyway, and there's no way she wants anyone laying a finger on her.

"I could have refused."

"Maura Isles, turning down the FBI?" she teasingly mocks, a slight smile gracing her lips.

Maura rolled her eyes feeling nothing but relief as the tension between them is replaced with an easy atmosphere. "It has happened you know," she teases back. They share a smile but it's one that soon turns somber for the blonde. "I am sorry."

Jane waves away the apology demonstrating that it was all water under the bridge as far as she was concerned. She cleared her throat, giving the blonde a pointed look as she glanced down at the hand the ME still has on the side of her abdomen. "Are we done here?"

Blushing furiously, Maura pulled her hand back. "For the time being." She took in the slight burns and bruising that surrounded the detective's wrists as well the slight cut on the side of her forehead. Frowning she said, "those still have to be seen to though." As she sees the brunette about to protest, aware that she doesn't want to be here any longer than she already has, she hastily adds in, "however, if you promise to come home with me, I'll let it go. We can deal with them at home instead."

"Are you propositioning me, Doc?" Jane's eyes are alight with levity and laughter and for the second time, Maura finds herself turning red.

"I-I..." she stammers.

Jane leaned forward. "As much as the whole idea is very enticing, I'll have you know I'm not that easy." She sniggered slightly at Maura's fish-in-the-water look, her jaw dropping and closing with no sound coming out. Maura's beyond gobsmacked, beyond speechless. The words just won't form. And for the life of her she doesn't know why. Correction. She does know why and it's because of Jane. Jut when she thinks the brunette could do nothing more to surprise her in the way she went from angry and tense, their conversation strained, to relaxed and mirthful all in the matter of seconds, she does it again. And her words hold a world of promise for Maura. Because despite the recent change to their relationship, they have yet to be intimate, physically anyway, with the blonde always emphasizing how they would take it at Jane's pace, giving her some semblance of control, allowing her to trust her. But with her words, it gives Maura hope; that despite everything that's just happened, that despite Hoyt's re-appearance in the detective's life, that despite their past, there's hope for them yet. Because she remembers. She remembers the conversation they had when they were sixteen and the discussion of sex they were forced to have during Gen Ed class, and she's spurred on by it.

.

.

.

_"I want you to discuss sex and what it means to you," Ms Cooper said, from her position at the front of the class. There's a collective groan and a roll of eyes from the students in front of her. She waved away their complaints dismissively. "No, I'm serious. Nowadays, you guys hook up so easily. You get drunk, you end up sleeping together, whether it ends up as an actual relationship or a one night stand that's up to you. But there's people, who, when they reflect on their high school days, say that they wish they hadn't given it up so easily. So I want you to take a few minutes, just in pairs, to talk about."_

_"So..." At the sound of the familiar voice, Maura whipped her head round over her shoulder to see brown eyes meet her hazel. It's the lanky brunette from her gym class, the same one who helped her on her first day, who now just happens to be sitting diagonally behind her. How did she not see her come in? The brunette gave her a lopsided smile. _

_"Where did you come from?" It's a great start for the socially awkward blonde as far as first impressions are concerned except...this is the third time they've met so that excuse is long gone. After her lack of sporting prowess and the brunette's obvious natural talent in that department, she's surprised she still wants anything to do with her. She's popular after all. She knows however, that she's said the wrong thing the moment the words fall out of her mouth and the brunette's brow rises uncertainty marring her features._

_"Uh...the hallway?" She's not sure after all if what's just been asked is a trick question._

_The blonde shakes her head. This is why she liked science. It was specific and to the point. "No, I mean I didn't see you come in."_

_Understanding dawns on the brunette's face and she turns her head slightly over her shoulder to the back of the classroom, jamming her thumb in the direction from which she came. "Came in through the back door." Maura follows her actions and realizes that there is in fact two points of entry and exit. She feels unconscionably embarrassed and looks down as she fiddles with the ring on her right hand. She's not quite sure how to get this conversation flowing again, if it were ever flowing at all and she's convinced that after the few words shared between them, she'll never want to speak to her again. But she's surprised. Because the next thing she knows the brunette is clearing her throat as she runs a hand through unruly curls._

_"Let's try this again," she suggests, "I'm Jane. Jane Rizzoli. And you're the new girl." Maura flushes slightly. "Maura Isles right?" She's amazed at how the girl even came to know her name._

_"You helped me pick up my books," she blurted, instantaneously wanting to kick herself for her words. Again with making an impression, Maura. Jane merely smiled._

_"I did." _

_"And you're in my gym class."_

_"I am. " Jane glanced up to see Ms Cooper making her way down the aisle towards them. __She turned back to the blonde. "We should probably get on with this...thing..." Maura bit back a giggle at seeing the normally confident brunette at such a loss for words and clearly uncomfortable with the task at hand. Having grown up with fairly liberal parents, Maura had no issue with talking about sexual intercourse._

_"I suppose so."_

_Jane scratched the back of her neck. "So, uh, what does it mean to you?"_

_Maura shrugged. "I'm not really sure," she said. Seeing the brunette waiting for her to go on, she continued. "To be honest, I've never actually had sex, let alone kissed anyone." Jane's eyes widened at the revelation._

_"You haven't?!" Embarrassed by just how much she's revealed and the surprised nature of Jane's tone, Maura looked down, shaking her head slightly as a faint blush crept up her neck. Jane herself winced. She hadn't meant it to come out like that. Quickly, she tried to backtrack. "I mean..err..." Jane shook her head, looking down at her hands. _

_Foot. Mouth. Really, Rizzoli? _

_"I didn't mean it like that. Honestly, Maur." This time, it's Maura's turn to be surprised, and not just by the genuine sincerity and sorrow in the brunette's voice because she's so used to having been made fun of, but also because of the use of a nickname which she's never had before. Curiously, she looks up._

_"Then what did you mean?" she asks._

_"I just..well, you're beautiful, Maura," she blurts out, cringing in the process at possibly having let on too much and made the honey blonde uncomfortable. She looks around to see if anyone else has caught on to their conversation but everyone is seemingly engrossed in their own too much to care. She's grateful to say the least. Despite her popularity as a jock, she's been called a dyke far too often for her to bring others down with her and have them experience the same degree of teasing; especially the girl sitting in front of her. She turned back to see the blonde looking at her ever so slightly abashed at the compliment she's just received. _

_It was cute. _

_"I could say the same about you," she replied, giving her a rather shy smile. Jane just colors. Seeing the brunette's rather diffident reaction and the awkwardness that's settled over them both, she decides it's probably time to change the subject. __"What about you?"_

_"What about me?"_

_"Sex," she stated blandly. "What does it mean to you?"_

_Jane fiddled with her fingers, bending them back slightly so as to stretch them. "I've never you know..." And she does know. And for some reason or another, she indulges in the knowledge that Jane's never had sex either._

_"How come?"_

_The brunette shrugged non-noncommittally. "The way I see it, when I finally give myself to that one person, I do so giving them all of me. I do so entrusting them with my soul." She can't believe she's just said that. It's soppy and corny and oh so cheesy, but it's also true. She can't believe she's just confided in someone she barely knows either but there's something about the girl that seems to bring out her more vulnerable side, the more romantic part of her. Because despite the sports she plays, the boyish way in which she acts and the way she hangs out with the guys simply because they're easier to get along with, there's a part of her that believes in the happily ever after, that wants so badly to believe it exists; that there is that one single person for all of them. If Maura thought she couldn't be more in awe of this girl, she's wrong. Because what she's just said fills her with wonderment and respect and stupefaction. Jane sees the look and squirms uncomfortably in the silence that surrounds. "Crazy huh?" she says, letting out a little laugh. _

_But Maura shakes her head, clearly disagreeing. "No," she says, "no, I think it's beautiful."_

* * *

Despite the lightheartedness that took place back at the crime scene, the drive back to Maura's home is weighty and quiet. The impact of Hoyt's return has seemingly taken its toll on the brunette who just sits there quietly and allows herself to be driven. Maura casts anxious glances towards the brunette observing Jane's face in the darkness.

Letting them both in, she leads the detective to her room where she pulls out the set of t-shirt and shorts she had left behind on one of the nights she had stayed.

"You know where the bathroom is. You can clean up there and then I'll come back in and tend to your other wounds." She lay a gentle hand on the brunette's chest, moving it to brush away a rampant curl. "Will you be alright?" Jane simply nods. "You'll let me know when you're done?" Again, another nod. Taking it as confirmation, she left the detective alone, going back downstairs where she prepared a light dinner for Bass. After twenty minutes however, concern overtakes her. In the time that she had left the brunette alone, she has neither heard the steady stream of water from the shower nor a single movement from upstairs and she's torn between giving the brunette her space after such an ordeal and going up to check on her. The latter wins out and she finds herself knocking on the door to her bedroom.

"Jane?" Hearing no response, she twisted the doorknob, relieved to find it hadn't been locked, only to find her standing in the exact same position she had left her. She takes in the clenched jaw, the defeated slope of what was once strong shoulders. "Jane?" The calling of her name seems to shake the detective out of her stupor and she turns to find Maura hovering on the edge. Brown pools stared directly into hazel; they looked tired and lost. It was time for Maura to step up. "Would you like some help?" she offered. Mutely, she nods once again and Maura quickly covers the distance, taking hold of her hand and leading her to sit on her bed while she kneels in front. She gently unfurls the fingers that clutch at the clothes and places them beside her, reaching first and foremost for the brunette's shirt asking for silent permission before she takes it off her.

It's not so much the fact that she's unprepared for the sight of it, the imprint of a cross that lies deep in Jane's skin, slightly below where her heart beats. She's thought of nothing _but_ it. It's more that she's unprepared by the force and whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm the moment she sets eyes on it. She gasps as she comes face to face with it and her gaze roams over it, tears filling her eyes.

.

.

.

_She's sixteen again and she's lying in the darkness of her room crying her eyes out because no less than two hours ago, she gave her girlfriend an ultimatum. Tell her parents that they're together, or it's over between them because she simply can't do it anymore. She wants all the things other couples have. She wants to be able to hold her girlfriend's hand while they sit on the couch watching the game with Jane's family, kiss her in front of them, tell her she loves her and announce it to the world. She wants more. Instead, she's sitting in her room sobbing when she hears the doorbell ring and voices downstairs and her name being called so she wipes the tears from her face, thinking it's Jane and makes an appearance. But instead of Jane, it's Angela and she's sobbing. And in between the sobs she makes out that Jane came home that night, that she told her parents she was gay and seeing Maura, and how much she loves her. But the Rizzoli's are Catholic and highly religious, her husband especially, and the moment Frank hears it, he's brought a hand to her face, the force of it so hard that she stumbles and falls and then he's dragging her to her room, locking her in it before stalking out, coat in hand. And less than half an hour later, he comes back with their priest in tow who hands her a long tool that has the cross at the end and he's telling her to warm it and bring it up to them so that they can perform the ritual and exorcise the demon out of her. And they go up to Jane's room and she does as she's told and seconds later, after the door has closed, she hears begging before there's a resounding scream; it's as if someone's being tortured. _

_It is someone being tortured. _

_And as much as Angela wants to go into the room and save her baby girl, she can't; she's rooted to the spot. Because she's been brought up to believe that the man is the head of the house and knows best and she knows what their religion says - how homosexuality is a sin. It's a teaching that has been ingrained in her since young. It wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference anyway because she can't get in; the door's locked. And standing in the hallway, Angela sees Tommy and Frankie standing in the darkness at the end of the corridor, hands over their ears, pleading with their eyes for their mother to do something. Anything._

_But she doesn't. _

_She doesn't take a step. _

_And then Frank and the priest come back out and Frank locks the door again with strict orders that she's not to open it unless it's to give her her dinner. So Angela does, except when she enter Jane's room, Jane's not there. The window to her room has been broken and there's shards laying on the ground, blood apparent on some pieces._

_And somewhere along the way, Maura has zoned out and all she hears are the words branded and ritualism and gone and Jane all in one sentence and suddenly, she doesn't want more. She just wants Jane._

But she's not sixteen anymore. She's thirty-two and even after over a decade, her mind replays that night word for word, movement for movement and her eyes go to the indentation of the cross set deep in the brunette's skin and she feels nothing but a twinge of pain coupled with guilt, and an overwhelming need to go back in time and take back that ultimatum because back then, she was young and naive thinking that everything would be alright once Jane's family knew about them, that they would accept it because at the end of the day, she was still their daughter and they loved her regardless, religion be damned.

But she was wrong.

And rather than turn away and run from her past and the mistakes she's made, she reaches out to the brunette, letting her fingers ghost over the scar that's there before placing her palm directly on top of it. And she looks up, willing the woman before her to hear her words in the silence that stretches between them. Words like

_I'm sorry_

_Please..._

_Forgive Me._

_I never wanted to hurt you._

_I never wanted you to end up hurt._

float between them. And Jane, at the feel of the simple touch that seemingly conveys so much, snaps out of her stupor and sighs in the knowledge that this conversation has been long overdue. _Sixteen years_ too long.

And so, she starts.

Because someone's got to...

* * *

**So now you know. And I look forward to your thoughts on the matter. Reviews as always, are appreciated. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_She's sixteen again and after the bombshell Angela dropped over an hour ago, she's all cried out. Now it's just hiccups and whimpers; that's what she's been reduced to. Instead of sitting in front of the fire Constance got their butler to make up in light of the news, she's all geared up. Instead of curling up and sobbing and hiding in her room thinking of all the ways in which this could have gone differently, her naiveté, exactly where and on whom the blame lies, the images she's conjuring up in her head of Jane crying out, Jane screaming, that tormented look in her eyes, she found herself slipping on her running gear and pounding the pavements. Her mother tried to comfort her till she realized it wasn't her arms her daughter wanted. It was Jane's. And so she let her go._

_With each step, she curses herself. She's all cried out. There's nothing but desperation and fear left. It takes a while for her to realize that her feet are bringing her to all the places they've ever visited, been to, walked along, kissed, held hands, laughed and just been. Subconsciously, she's searching for her. But Jane's not there. She's never there. She's already made the mistake of going up to a girl with similar build and the same color of hair and wrenching her around before realizing she's not the person she's searching for, apologizing before stumbling away. And for each place, she starts to lose hope till it occurs to her that there's one place she has yet to go._

_ Frost's. _

_And so she turns up. It's the middle of the night, or morning, or whatever, but the moment his mother comes to the door, her eyes widen at the state of the girl standing on her front porch and she immediately rouses her son, no questions asked._

_She's staring into the darkness, silently pleading with it to surround her, engulf her, become her, when he makes his way downstairs, tired eyes still filled with sleep. He needs another couple of hours at least. But then he sees Maura. Sees the girl all dressed and ready to go and he thinks to himself, ''what the hell?'' till she turns and only then does he really take her in._

_Her eyes are puffy and red, her breathing ragged, her hair's been roughly pulled into a ponytail with very little thought given to the way it looks, but its the look she has deep within that gets to him the most. They're lost. desperate. and deploring. And just like that, he knows. He doesn't know exactly what has gone down but he knows that his best friend took that final step and whatever the outcome, it's definitely far from good. And so, he takes her into his arms armed with the knowledge that there's nothing else he can do, except for maybe be there._

_And she feels his arms circle her, close round her body, just like her mother's did only hours before, and she knows it's not enough. _

_It will never be enough._

* * *

"It wasn't your fault..." From her position on Jane's chest, the rest of her snuggled tightly beside the brunette, arms round her narrow waist, the blonde looks up confused, befuddled at this refusal of blame. She's so caught off guard that she doesn't know how to respond. Or perhaps her confusion is because she's only just noticed that she's no longer kneeling by the edge of the bed but on it instead. Somehow, Jane's managed to maneuver her onto the bed where they're propped up against the headboard. One the bedside table lies a glass of wine and a beer. As far as Jane's concerned, it's needed for a conversation such as this.

"You didn't do this to me. It was Pop, and that priest. And yes, to a certain extent, even my mother. But you weren't the one who brought the priest home, who heated up the iron rod, who placed the symbol there after waiting for it to become hot so that it becomes ingrained. You weren't the one who placed it on me." She shrugs, as she makes herself more comfortable against the headboard, taking the ME with her. "It wasn't your fault," she finishes. Hearing those words should have brought relief to the ME but it only causes indignation.

"Bu-but I made you do it! If I hadn't threatened to break up with you, if I hadn't insisted, forced you to come out, you'd never have told your parents, and your father would never have locked you in your room that night before going in search of the priest and bringing him back. I was the reason why he dared lay that iron rod on you, why you ran from home, from me! Why your brothers didn't have an older sister to finish growing up with and play basketball in the backyard with.

I was the catalyst.

If it hadn't been for me, there wouldn't have been that chain reaction." Her words end on a whisper and Jane sees not only how long the blonde has been carrying the guilt around but also the extent of it, as if the weight of the world had been on her shoulders from the time she was sixteen, and she sees just how much the ME wants to take the blame. She wants to be screamed at and shouted at. She wants to be shaken to her core. She wants to serve her penance. But Jane's had sixteen years to come to terms with it, and if there is one thing she's sure of, it's that she never blamed her.

"It would have happened regardless." Maura's astonished by the blase attitude the brunette seems to be displaying to the whole thing.

"How can you say that? How can you-"

"Because it's true." And as far as she's concerned, it is.

And so, she starts.

Because she's got to start somewhere...

* * *

"You remember what my family was like. Every Sunday, we'd go to Church where we were expected to sit still and listen and not fidget. All of Christ's festivals were celebrated as a family; not one of us were allowed to not be there. My father was modern yes. When it came to gadgets and cars. He was the typical father who liked to spend Sunday afternoons watching the ballgame, playing in the yard with his kids, tossing a football around. But his one flaw was his religion. My pop, was deeply religious. He always had been. The church we attended was sacrosanct in its teaching that ultimately when it comes to relationships which involves two women, it goes against the natural law of one man and one woman. They always used to say that if you're gay, it's not a choice. It's because you had a demon inside of you who had taken hold of your soul and that the only way to make you you again was by forcing the thing that has you in its hold, out."

Maura wants to say its a load of nonsense, that the church also says that children are a gift from god and that by harming one's children, you're indirectly showing god that what he's created is not good enough for you. But she's not religious. She never has been. Science is the only thing she truly believes in aside from Jane. And after what happened to the brunette, she doesn't think she'll ever be able to believe that there is an omniscient presence up there that looks after all of mankind. Because that day...that day, he failed to look after Jane.

So she holds her tongue. For now.

"That day..."she takes a breath and wills herself to go on. "That day when you said what you said, that day you walked away, I knew the moment you left, that when it came to choosing between the teachings of the faith in which I had grown up in but never really cared for and you, I'd always choose you." The tears come unbidden to Maura's eyes and she stifles the sob that threatens to escape at the brunette's words, only tightening her hold. "So I went home. Pop wasn't home yet. Ma was doing something or other in the kitchen and Frankie and Tommy were outside playing ball. I went up to my room and I packed a bag with some clothes and a few other pieces. I sat up in my room thinking how best to tell my parents. I don't know how long I sat there before I heard the door slam indicating that Pop had come home and Ma holler to the boys to come in and wash up and do their homework before dinner. I remember hearing Tommy whine about how he only need another five more minutes to beat Frankie at their ballgame, their footsteps pounding on the stairs as they made their way up, the water running and then all was quiet, except for the tv which Pop had turned on."

.

.

.

_Bag in hand, she opened her bedroom door and crept quietly to the top of the stairs in an attempt to figure out whether it was a good time to sit her parents down and talk to them but it was the creaking of a door to the left of her which took her from her musings._

_"Janie?" She turned to see Frankie standing in the doorway to his and Tommy's room. Perhaps it was the bag in her hand, or the hesitant way in which she held herself or perhaps it was a mixture of both, but she didn't miss the concerned and curious look her brother was giving her. She put the bag down to go to him._

_"Hey bud." He simply looked at her silently. His eyes are full of questions she doesn't know how to answer, let alone whether she wants to at all. She gives him a wide smile in an attempt to both stave of the sense of dread that comes over her and protect him from the fear she feels. By this time, Tommy has joined them, eager to not be left out, with the same inquisitive look as his brother. _

_"I gotta go talk to Ma and Pop. Go do your homework yeah? You remember what I've told you about putting your all into your work?" The boys nod solemnly. They remember everything she says, Frankie especially. She's his hero after all. He wants to make her proud. She chuckles at their serious faces, and goes to ruffle their hair to lighten the atmosphere. The unease she feels lessens as Tommy scowls at her and tries frantically to pat down his ever-standing mop. Frankie on the other hand, just grins and quotes,_

_"If you do your work and do it well, you'll get somewhere. One day you'll make a name for yourself. And you'll be there cheering us on, right?" The last part he adds on just for confirmation. The smile on her face doesn't falter._

_"You betcha, I will. Right up front." His grin widens 'cause he can imagine it, clear as day, and there's a moment of understanding that passes between them before he goes to close the door. She turns and makes her way back and just before she makes her descent, she hears him once more._

_"Love you, Janie."_

_Peering over the banister, she says, "love you too." And with that, the door closes._

_Moments later, her foot hits the bottom step and she takes a look around. It's just another normal day, Jane, she tells herself, closing her eyes. The sound of her mother's voice however, causes them to snap back open and she panics but for a moment. _

_"You okay, Janie?" She nods, unable to find the words yet to speak. Her father continues to sit on the couch, lost in whatever show that's on. And in her mind's eye, the childhood she's had with both her parents flashes. She sees he father bringing her to her first ballgame, sitting her on top of his shoulders in celebration, just him and her. She sees her mother dragging her to the mall to get some new clothes because overnight, she seems to have experienced a growth spurt whereby nothing fits anymore and her scowling and grumbling all the way, or her mother swatting at her hands when she tries to sneak some dinner off the plate even though they have yet to sit down and say grace. And she tries to convince herself that everything's going to be okay. But deep down, she knows it isn't true. She knows what happened to Betty Litinsky and how one day, she suddenly disappeared into thin air, never to be seen or heard of again, her family too. But then she thinks of Maura. And all she can see is that bright smile, hear the lilt of her voice, her laugh and her twinkling eyes and the world rights itself again. _

_"Ma?" Her mother turns, clearly startled that her daughter has come to her. "We need to talk," she says. "Can you sit down?" And she indicates to the space next to her father. For once, Angela complies, no questions asked, no eyebrow raised in suspicion. She sees the nerves, the serious look in her daughter's eye and she sits down next to her husband, turning off the tv in the process, and simply giving him a look when he goes to protest. But the bombshell her daughter drops is not one she could ever have expected, ever have foreseen._

_She watches as Jane takes a deep breath, eyes going up to meet her own. "Ma, Pop. I'm gay."_

_And for the life of her, she has no idea what to say. _

_._

_. _

_._

She recalls the trembling of her mother's hands, the aversion and disgust in her father's eyes and the silence that envelopes them all as she tells them she's met someone, she's with someone, and how they've met her, how it's Maura, how much she loves her, how much she wants to be with her. Her memory of that evening is as clear as day and as she tells her story, she feels a weight being lifted from her shoulders. It's the first time she's told it to anyone. She recollects how her father's face contorts into one of fury and fear as he rose up, took a hand to her hair and dragged her upstairs, her stumbling beside him, trying to loosen his grip as he thunders about how she's been taken by the devil and how no daughter of his is going to live her life that way all the while her mother begging, pleading with him to let her go before he tosses her onto the bed, and slaps her so hard across the face that she blacks out.

When she eventually comes to, it's to see their priest standing above her, arms in the air, chanting mindless things. She tries to get up, to plead with her father to just listen, how being gay isn't actually a bad thing but her hands and feet are bound to each corner of her bedposts. Then comes the knock at the door, and her father opens it to reveal her Ma standing there with a hot red poker in her hands and her eyes widen as she realizes exactly what's going to happen. She opens her mouth, gaze beseeching as she appeals to her Ma to do something, to help her. But her mother simply looks at her with despair and trepidation but then the door is closed and locked leaving a barrier between them and the hot rod is handed to the priest. And she sees him nod to her father who then takes a pair of scissors and cuts her top leaving her clad in just her bra and jeans. And their eyes lock, him whispering "I'm sorry. But this has to be done. It will hurt. But after this you will be okay again, you will be normal," and she wonders how on earth any of this is normal, before his hands clamp down on either shoulder, holding her steady. And she's left bound, tied, pinned and defenseless. All she can do is watch at the poker comes closer and closer towards her.

Only mere inches away, she can already feel the searing heat coming off the cross at the hand but even as she tries to struggle, she knows it's no use, but it certainly doesn't prepare her for the pain she's about to feel. Because when it's placed on her skin, pressed in deep, it burns and blazes and sears. She sees white spots and she's certain she's about to combust at the agony that's being inflicted on her skin. She hears a roar, so deep and dark and furious as she convulses and strains, her body fighting every inch to get away. It's instinctual; the need to survive, to fight back. But she finds herself losing the power to do so. The pain is so bad, and so strong that eventually it overwhelms her. And for the second time, she blacks out. Only next time, when she regains consciousness, it's to find her room encased in darkness, a food tray by the side of her bed. She's no longer tied up and the scorching pain she felt previously, has now dulled to a throbbing sensation.

Somehow, she pulls herself off the bed, wincing as she does so and makes her way over to the door. But the sound of voices stop her and she stills. And through the wooden door that separates herself from her parents, she hears her father speak. About how if she's not rid of this evil, Father Romano has offered to come again, to perform the ritual and how she needs to kept away from Maura, how Maura will be told never to come near her again and she feels herself physically flinch at his last words, at the thought that her father would go near the honey blonde, would even dare to breathe the same air as her. But then she hears her mother's voice, pleading, imploring, saying she's already in enough pain, they should get her to a hospital, she's learnt her lesson, she doesn't need another, that Maura has nothing to do with this, it's not her fault, it's got nothing to do with her. And her father's voice booms over hers clearly stating how he's the man of the house and how he knows what's best for his daughter, and doesn't she want her daughter to be normal? before he storms away, not hearing her last words of how she is normal before her sobs fade into the distance too.

And she panics. She panics for herself, she panics for Maura. Because if there's one thing the honey blonde should never have to do its pay for what's happened. Hysteria seeps within her bones and in a whirl of dread and alarm and anxiety and anguish, she knows she has to get out of there, out of Boston. The further away she is from Maura, the better off she'll be.

Hastily, she packs another bag, haphazardly throwing items in, but not too heavy so it wouldn't weigh down her getaway. She peels off the half cut shirt and as fast as she can against the pain, she places a bandage and a fresh shirt over her torso. She spots one of Maura's medical books about first aid and such that she had left after one of her visits and decides to throw that in too for good measure as well as the picture of her and her brothers that sits proud on her bedroom wall. Finally, she kneels down by her bed and brings out the tin of money she's been saving up and chucks it in too. She hears the front door slam once again and from her vantage point, she spots her father peel out of the driveway and that's when she makes her move. The movement from downstairs, the clanging of pots tells her that her mother's in the kitchen.

It's perfect timing.

As quietly as she can, she breaks the window to her room, wincing as she hears it shatter. Wallet and phone in her pocket, leather jacket and bag on her person she starts to climb out, silently cursing as she manages to cut both her hands on the shards still sticking out. Using her bare hands, she takes hold of the longest one and snaps it off in the process before scaling down the drainpipe of their house. Standing on the sidewalk, she takes one last look at the place she used to call home, and despite what's just happened, she says a little prayer for her brother to a presence she no longer believes. But she does so nonetheless because she doesn't know how else to hope that someone will keep them safe, will keep them straight.

And with that, she's gone.

.

The gasp Maura lets out is not silent by any means. The images swirl in her mind. Of Jane being held down by her father while the priest conducts his ritual, chanting things of a foreign tongue, of the rod touching Jane's skin, of her crying out, screaming, of her struggling and flailing and failing in the process to do anything, of her being helpless, of the tears streaming down her cheeks, of the sobs she lets out, of the panic she feels when she realizes she's locked in and the possibility of them coming down, and of the desperation that threatens to overwhelm as she attempts to get out. There's too many things whirling in her mind as she tries futilely to process them all. But the one that remains imprinted on her mind is how she left, in part, to protect her.

She wants to say sorry, she wants to scream at the injustice of it all, she wants to hold the woman in her arms and never let go but most of all, she wants to go back in time.

She wants to be sixteen again.

She wants to change history. She wants to erase the pain they've both felt, the years they've lost and will never get back. She wants it all. If she had been shown an image of what her future looked like after having given that ultimatum, the loss she would have felt when she first found out Jane had disappeared and later, when she realized she wasn't coming back, she would never have done it.

But she's aware.

She's aware that for all the wants in the world, she can't change time, she can't go back.

All she can do now is hold on.

So that's what she does, as the tears stream silently down her face and she buries her face in the crook of the detective's neck, simply breathing her in, allowing her to ground her; the beat of her heart, that scent which is uniquely Jane, her touch. She has no idea how many minutes, hours have passed in which they sit and simply observe the quietude that washes over them in waves as Jane's hand strokes her arm mindlessly, the act being one she's done many times before when they had the opportunity to just...bask in the other's presence. When she finally speaks, her voice is no more than a whisper.

"I searched for you."

The admission is quiet but in the silence, it's loud enough to be heard. The detective tightened her hold on the smaller woman allowing her to say whatever it was she needed to say. This wasn't just her story after all.

It was theirs.

"That night, morning...I went looking. Everywhere I could think of. The last place I went was Frost's. By that time, it was already the early hours of the morning. I had no idea the time. But when I turned up, he just knew."

.

.

.

_She recalls the brush of his hand on her back, going up and down, in what she recognizes as being a soothing manner. The whisper of "it's gonna be okay, we'll find her," in her ear and how, but for a moment, she allowed herself to believe. But then she pulls away. Standing there with him, she's already lost so much time, so many minutes. And as far as she's concerned, each minute counts. She remembers opening her mouth, panic filling her voice as she speaks the words, "I have to go. I have to find her," and how she turns to step down from the porch, eager to continue her journey when a hand not much bigger than hers grabs her wrist._

_"Wait," he says. "At least wait till the sun rises, then we can look together. Two eyes are better than one after all." She turns back to look at him only to see sincerity and a deep seated worry shining back. It's overwhelming. The worry should be for Jane. She's the one who's missing._

_"There's no time, Barry!" Slowly, she finds herself losing it. "The longer we wait, the less chance we have to finding her! Don't you get it?" _

_He does._

_"Jane's not stupid, Maura. She may be running but she'll find shelter first."_

_"She's running scared, Frost! She's running on pure adrenaline! Just like I am, and I've been out for hours!"_

_"Then give me a couple of minutes. Let me change, get some boots on at least." For the first time, she takes in his appearance. He's in a singlet and long dark navy blue pajama bottoms, the same ones Jane and her gave him for Christmas. It had been Maura's idea. After all, everyone needed to keep warm during winter. Jane had only rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth quirking up but she'd gone along with it nonetheless. "I'll go with you now even if you don't want to wait. But with the light, at least it'll be easier to see. And besides, you're exhausted. You should rest a while at least, and then we can continue with a bit more vigor. It's still dark. It's cold. And if we've learnt anything about Jane at all, it's that she will find shelter. At least until the sun comes up."_

_He's right. _

_She is exhausted. And fiercely cold. And she's sure her emotional state is bordering on hysterical. Which will be of no help whatsoever in her search for Jane._

_"I don't want to sleep," she says, and he knows she's scared of falling into such a deep sleep that would in turn cause her to lose precious time. He nods thankful that he's gotten her to see at least a little bit of sense. It's not often Maura Isles is illogical._

_"We don't have to sleep. Just rest. Maybe sit down? I can get my mom to makes us some hot chocolate? She makes wicked hot chocolate with little marshmallows on top, just the way you like, remember?"_

_She takes little comfort in that but nods nonetheless. "I remember." And he breathes a little sigh of relief over the fact that he's managed to win her over, to convince her that waiting for daylight is the best course of action. She walks over to the swing that sits to the left of his porch and sits on it and he's surprised._

_"Don't you at least want to come inside?"_

_She shakes her head. "If it's alright with you, I'd rather just stay here." At least here, she can keep a lookout in case Jane does appear. He wonders briefly if he can convince her otherwise but decides against it. It's enough that she's agreed to wait._

_"Two cups and a couple of blankets coming right up." He walks towards his screen door but stops as a thought occurs to him. "You will stay, won't you? I won't come back to find you gone, right?" There's the smidgen of a smile on her face and she knows he's caught her in the process of considering it. But she shakes her head. He knows her too well._

_"I'll be here." And he trusts her enough to know that when she says she'll do something, she'll do it. So he leaves her to it. And when he goes into the kitchen, it's to find two steaming mugs of cocoa loaded with marshmallows and a thick woolen blanket set next to them, courtesy of his mother who's now standing by the sink seemingly wiping it down. She turns, hearing him enter and gives him an encouraging smile, her eyes soft with pride at the depth of friendship he's developed, the caring and compassionate attitude he has and the man that he has yet to become. He gives her a shy smile in return before taking the items and bringing them to the girl who's still sitting on his porch. He holds out the warm offering and she accepts it gratefully. She hadn't realized how cold she was till now. Cup in hand, he spreads the blanket over them as best he can, settling down beside her and a few minutes later, she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. It's not Jane's, but it'll have to do for now._

_Till they find her._

.

.

.

"Your mother didn't stop you?" Maura shakes her head.

"She couldn't have stopped me even if she'd tried."

* * *

**So I believe I have covered everything that happened that night. There will be a chapter on what happened to Jane after that - where she went, what she did etc. Oh, and both Angela and Frankie (maybe) will be making an appearance fairly soon. I've yet to decide how to write Frankie in. :( **

**Still...hey ho!**

**Reviews are appreciated as always. Thanks for reading! :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**I committed this chapter to major surgery countless time. I think I wrote and re-wrote it at least ten times. It was the beginning and the end I wasn't happy with but now I have finally got something on par with the rest of it. Or at least I hope I do. Sorry about the extremely long wait. But I refuse to give you guys something sub-standard. Let me know what you think. **

**Onwards and upwards with the next chapter! Lovely reviews guys! Thanks so much!**

* * *

Chapter 18

_She's sixteen again and she's standing off to one side in the Rizzoli's front room, Jane's letterman jacket draped over one arm as she waits for the brunette to come home from practice. She had left her jacket at Maura's the day she had come over to do their project, and with a mixture of curiosity at the sort of family life the brunette leads, and want to see the lanky girl again, she decided to come over to return it to her. _

_Her gaze flicks over the photos, framed and proudly on display on shelves, walls, wherever there's a clear space. Most of them are of the Rizzoli children; two boys, one girl. Frankie. Tommy. Jane. Despite never having met the brunette's brothers, she knows enough to know that Frankie is that middle child and Tommy, the scrawnier of the two in both height and build. To some extent, he resembles his older sister. But if there's one thing she knows from the mere glances the photographs provide, it's that out of all of them, Jane is the only one who possesses a twinkling cheeky sort of mischief that seems to make up her part of the Rizzoli charm. Frankie appears to be the more tempered of the three, always smiling nicely for the camera, dutifully standing in position while Tommy, the runt of the litter pulls funny faces. In quite a few of them, they're grinning, eyes twinkling but the ones that make her laugh the most are the ones where Jane is scowling. She really does not like having her picture taken._

_It's the sound of laughter that causes Angela to come bustling in from the kitchen where she's been fixing dinner for her brood who should be home soon and spying the perfect opportunity, she turns down the gas, leaving the sauce to simmer before whipping out the photo albums. Going through the photographs of the three growing up makes the honey blonde wistful. It makes her wonder whether her parents have photo albums tucked away somewhere with pictures of her, whether they have one tucked up inside their wallet, whether like Angela, they're proud of her, whether they speak about her to their friends...it's something she'll never know though. The relationship she shares with her parents isn't exactly one of warmth and closeness and to some extent, it makes her wistful. She knows they love her. It's just that growing up, there was a lot of benign neglect and she had never exactly grown up knowing how to ask for the things she longed for the most...for her parents to be there, for that closeness she watched other parents impart on their children. She just doesn't know._

_And there's a part of her that wonders..._

_What it's like to be a Rizzoli. To come from a rough and tumble brood, to have brothers and sisters with whom she could play with, talk to, confide in, share with, laugh with. To have fun. To have a mother who's constantly fussing and hovering. A father to go to the park with and toss a ball around. To feel that love and show it in return._

_And there's a part of her that wishes..._

_That she was the lucky one. __That her parents were like Angela Rizzoli; who made her kids her life, who can't stop going on about them, who's proud of them and their achievements, who despite the complaints, the minor "heart attacks', which she knows can't happen without at least the necessity for hospitalization but chooses not to point out, and eye rolls for every single scrape they got into, wouldn't change any it for the world._

_But then, there's also a part of her that panics. Because if she had grown up knowing the sort of warmth and comfort and love that Jane has done, there's the possibility that she would never have the brunette at all. That their paths would never have crossed. This girl who seems to create a flurry of emotion within her just by the simple thought of her._

_Just then, she hears the front door open, the scuff of shoes on the 'welcome home' mat outside, the loud, raspy holler of "I'm home" as it echoes through the house, the stomping of heavy footsteps and then Jane appears from round the corner and Angela chastises her daughter for tomboyish ways and how she should be more like Maura who's ladylike and wears dresses and doesn't play rough sports and who's been the perfect house guest before she__ makes herself scarce, muttering to herself over and over about how she could do with being a bit more ladylike. B__ut her words are only met with an eye roll and a deep huff of annoyance her daughter puts down her bag and leans against the wall, arms crossed and she turns back to find the brunette grinning at her as she mouths the words that Angela grouches to perfection. And Maura finds herself grinning back and suddenly all rumination of wishes and wants and longing disappears as she faces the lanky Italian. Because despite the less than normal childhood she's had, she knows._

_She knows she wouldn't change it for the world._

* * *

By some sort of silent decree, the two women don't leave the house for two days. That night had borne down an emotional toil on them both and they're happy to just sit on the couch, cuddled up together watching tv or reading, or occasionally, watching each other. She knows the brunette's concerned about the heaviness of the talk they had last night but has somehow managed to sit quietly, allowing her to take the time to process it. There's so much more to go through - like where she disappeared to, what she did, how she survived, did she receive medical attention for the burn and so on but for now, Maura's happy to just let things lie and enjoy their time together.

There's a part of her that's filled with disbelief in the fact that Angela had reacted in that way; had stood back and allowed it to happen. It doesn't fit the Angela she knew, the Angela she remembers. Because the one she remembers was constantly fluttering and hovering and panicking over her children the moment any one of them got hurt or otherwise.

Their days however, have not been them and solely them for the entire time. Frost and Korsak came over the day after the whole re-hash of the Hoyt incident, first to get Jane's statement. Surprisingly, Jane had let her stay for it without argument. She'd been prepared for at least some degree of disagreement but it never came. Little by little, bit by bit, Jane was slowly letting her in. She'd held her hand the whole time, never letting go, giving gentle squeezes of encouragement every now and then. Once that was done and dusted, the four of them had just sat, watched a sports channel involving two basketball teams, as the brunette and the two men exclaimed loudly at various faults and obvious plays as if their shouting could make a difference to the outcome of the whole game.

It had been like old times.

The only thing that had been missing was Frankie and Tommy. Later, they had stayed for a light lunch in which Maura made something simple for all of them and which Frost and Korsak seemingly gobbled up as if they had never known what food was till that afternoon. Jane had simply rolled her eyes commenting that they were both animals while Maura chuckled at their antics. They had apparently realized that despite the pros of bachelorhood, it was obviously missing something; a good meal and a woman who knew how to make one. God knows how they got by.

And then Korsak surprised them both, Jane especially, when he told them of his plans to start doing up his uncle's old bar and how he had called a contractor who had agreed to come the following week to take a look at the place.

_For retirement_, he said.

Jane's startled.

It never crossed her mind that there would come a time when Korsak would hang up his gun and badge and for a moment, an overwhelming wave of sadness overcomes her before she concludes that while the place won't be the same without him, the man deserves it after having put in over thirty years with the force. And so she gets a few more beers from Maura's fridge and toasts him. And cheekily adds that when it all comes to fruition, she expects the first beer to at least be on the house. Maura simply sits and watches the exchange, the banter between the two ex-partners and she marvels at the ease in which they conduct themselves, the ease that exists between them both, how they laugh and tease. She wants that. She wants Jane to let her in. She wants to re-learn the intricacies of the brunette, get to know the parts of her that have changed. Though they're together, they're not exactly together. Kisses have been chaste, kept merely to cheek to cheek contact, and yet their touches...their touches ask for more. But if there's one thing Maura Isles is, it's patient. She can wait.

She will wait.

Because when it happens, she knows it will be worth it.

And then after lunch and a few more highlights of the game, they lifting themselves off the couch, stomachs fully satisfied, complimenting Maura on the meal she had made; they have work to get back to. For the first time in a long time, she found herself serving food to her guests in the living room where they sat on the couch, waving away their offer to set the dining table and sit at it. It was odd to say the least, and certainly not something someone from her social stature would have done. But as she reminds herself over and over again, high society was merely what she was brought up in; it wasn't who she was. And so she basks in the warmth of the atmosphere and the effortless banter that exists between the four of them.

It's only when Korsak steps out that he remembers he has two things yet to say. One being that Jane can now go back to her apartment, clean it up, or what's left of it. And the second is a favor. He wonders if Maura would keep the piano for him. Just temporarily, till the place is done up and can be put back in it's original position. In the garage maybe, or somewhere out of the way. After all, he doesn't want to impose. She's taken aback to say the least but quickly recovers, telling the detective that he's more than welcome to do so and if he'd like he can put it in the living room, just by the bay window; she'll leave the key under the mat just in case he decides to move it when she's not home. And with that, he takes his leave.

She goes back in, only to find the brunette out cold on her couch and she smiles fondly as she drapes a blanket over her, pressing a kiss to her temple. It's been a long day, and after the ordeal she's had, she more than deserves a rest and the short stint with the guys seems to have taken it out of her. In fact, she thinks, she could do with an afternoon nap too. And so, she lifts the blanket, edging herself under, curling herself up next to Jane, careful not to wake her as she too joins the detective in the blissful ignorance sleep brings.

* * *

They stand in the centre of the brunette's apartment, surveying the area, trying to decide where to start. The place is a mess. Shelves have been brought down, books knocked off and scattered on the floor, picture frames smashed and broken, the coffee table overturned, one of it's legs having fallen off in the attack, cupboard doors strewn open, its contents lying for all to see. Everything she owned, mangled and ripped to pieces and laid bare after having been thrown around in fury.

The pieces that made her.

That had become a part of the life she had built for herself.

And that was just the half of it. It's only via Maura's logical deduction that the kitchen would be the easiest of the lot to put into place first that they end up there. Maura's bent down, gathering the remnants of the broken plates and cups while Jane got to work on her kitchen cupboards, screwdriver in hand when they hear a banging at the door before a key is inserted and the door is swung open, revealing a very angry Angela Rizzoli who immediately swoops in and rounds on her daughter.

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli!" The Angela that Maura is met with looks different from the one she remembers. She looks defeated, a mere shell of her former self. There's a definite slope in her posture. Her shoulders are hunched, her face adorned with lines and wrinkles that should never have graced her face at the age she's at. She's tired, worn, and extremely angry. "When were you going to tell me?! Or did you think I didn't deserve to know?" She's referring to Hoyt. They both know it.

"Hello to you to, Ma."

"Don't get all sassy with me, Jane Rizzoli," Angela retorts, wagging her finger at her daughter as if she were five years old again and just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, propped up by Frankie and Tommy.

"Jesus."

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain. How many times have I had to tell you that?"

"And yet, I still do it!" she replied, flinging her hands in the air. "And I didn't give you that key last week so that you could just barge in whenever you wanted. It was for emergencies," she stressed.

"And pray tell, how this is not an emergency?" she asks, gesturing between them and the remaining mess that surrounds them. "How is finding out from the son of a family friend, that your own daughter was attacked, for the _second_ time, by a murderous serial scumbag, not an emergency? I had no idea what Luca was talking about when he came in to send his well wishes at the same time he dropped his car off!"

So that was what this was about.

"I've been busy," she hedges.

"Doing what exactly?"

"Getting my apartment back in order, for one," came the sarcastic response.

"You're coming home with me."

"No! No way. I'm fine where I am." The brunette stood squarely in front of Angela, arms crossed, chin defiant.

"It's not safe for you here. He knows where you live. He knows, don't you understand?" she stressed.

"Änd he's back behind bars. I'm fine," she reiterates.

"What's so bad about coming home? Letting me take care of you?"

"I'm 32 years old, Ma! I can take care of myself! And besides, it's not like I've needed you since I was 16!" Angela flinches because a part of her knows it's true. Ever since she disappeared and turned up on her doorstep years later, she's grown. She somehow managed to wade through it all; put herself through police academy, got herself an apartment, became a cop, worked her way up the ladder to make detective. Oh yes, at thirty-two her daughter certainly has made a life for herself. And it's one she's had to watch over at a distance, not too happily either. "And in case you haven't noticed, I have someone to take care of me." There's a spread of warmth that flows through the blonde hearing those words and she flushes slightly in embarrassment as Angela's gaze lands on the ME, taking her in for the first time. "Maura, you remember my mother. Ma, this is Maura. Maura Isles." Maura moved forward, hand outstretched.

"It's nice to see you again, An...Mrs Rizzoli." Angela ignored the gesture choosing instead to step closer to her and she watches as a flash of recognition passes through Angela's eyes.

"You're that girl..." It's obvious that she remembers her. To be honest, it would be hard to forget; all those years ago. There's the scurry of movement before she realizes Jane is now standing in front of her, between herself and her mother. Whatever it is that Jane saw in her mother's face, it was enough for her to step between them, guarding her, protecting her, one arm going behind as if to shield her. From her position, slightly diagonally behind the brunette, Maura watches as Jane's eyes harden along with the rest of her features. Her hand automatically slipped into Jane's, squeezing slightly in gentle reminder that everything was going to be okay.

"So this is the kind of life you're living now." Jane clenched her hands, holding them tight in the fists she's made as her jaw grinds, holding back the anger at obvious disappointment she hears in her mother's tone as well as the lack of acceptance for how she's chosen to live her life. Sixteen years and still nothing had changed. She had been fooling herself all this time. The only way her mother would accept her for who she was, for her own sexuality was when hell froze over. Maura winced. This was not going well.

"Don't you dare..." The warning comes out as a growl. Her message is crisp and clear; _you are not going to change me_. But it doesn't draw Angela back. Instead, it pushes her forward, it goads her on.

"And what sort of life is that?" she questioned. "One where you put your life on the line every day, where you've got a serial killer after you? Obsessed with you? What sort of life is that?" she emphasized as she skirted away from the real issue at hand. "Is this what you're life is going to be like from now on? You looking over your shoulder every day, wondering if it's going to be your last. You think I enjoy knowing this? The dangers your job holds?" Angela's pleading now. She just wants her to see sense. "You just turn up on my doorstep, dressed in your policemen's blues and I had absolutely no say in the matter."

"You've always known I wanted to be a cop."

"As a child! Never did I think you'd actually go and do it given the way you knew how I felt about it. It was a childhood dream, Janie! Don't you see? Nothing but a childhood dream. And to make it worse, Frankie had to follow in your footsteps. So now, I've not one but two children walking the beat, taking down criminals and getting into scuffles with armed people, serial killers for goodness sake! I mean, look at what he did to your hands..." She goes to take her daughter's hand but it's immediately the wrong move. The ME sees the way Jane flinches and draws out of her mother's grasp, backing away. No one, save for herself, is allowed to touch Jane's hands.

"You don't get to touch my hands," she growled, flinching at the contact before snatching her hands away. Angela felt as if she were at her wits end. There was no getting her daughter to see sense.

"And who does, Janie? Her?" she asked, pointing at the blonde. Finally, they were getting back to the truth of the matter; to the one issue they had both avoided for so long, the so-called elephant in the room, of their past. "Did you forget what happened that night? What was done to you? Have you not learnt? If it wasn't for her, if she hadn't come into our lives, none of it would ever have happened."

Now, Jane was angry. For her to even think that she had forgotten. She had lived with it for sixteen years. The scars, both physical and emotional, would remain with her forever. There was no avoiding that. But for her to blame it on the honey blonde...it was beyond belief. Sixteen years and she still couldn't accept that her one and only daughter was gay, and it had nothing to do with Maura. "It has nothing to do with her," she warned, her voice rising a notch in warning. "I am who I am. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because it wasn't the life I envisioned for you!" Angela screamed back. "I saw you in a relationship, falling in love, getting married, having children...with a _man_...someone who loves you."

"And I can still have all those things! Just, instead of it being with a guy, it'd be with a woman. With Maura...just because we're women, doesn't make it any different." It takes all of the ME's willpower not to go to Jane and simply take her in her arms, envelope her. Hearing those words, finding out that she has on some level envisioned a life with them together, married, with kids, it takes her breath away. And she couldn't be more hopeful than she is at this moment. She gazed tenderly at the detective but the detective wasn't looking at her. She was too busy staring down her mother who appeared to be doing the same as if it were a competition to see who would break first.

"Your father would be so disappointed..." And that is the breaking point. Maura could literally, from that point on, see it all come crashing down, splintering in pieces as Jane slammed her hand down on the counter so hard Maura's convinced the entire floor shuddered. And there's a whole lot of movement; a whirling and two bodies moving across the kitchen and connecting to the wall. And before she knows it, Jane has Angela pinned to the opposite wall balancing on her toes, one hand on her throat as it keeps the older woman in place. Maura gasped, going to intervene but doesn't. Something stops her. A gut feeling if you will. It's as if she knows that whatever it is needs to be said. That keeping it pent up for any longer would truly break the brunette. So she stays. And she lets her have her say.

"He is not my father." Her voice is low, soft. It's lethal and dangerous. The Jane Rizzoli who storms around and huffs and puffs and runs hands through unruly curls is all hot air. But this...this is altogether a different Jane. It's the Jane who's kept sixteen years of feelings and harbored anger and angst and fury all bottled up, and only now, is it showing. It is this Jane, that people should really be scared of. But Maura feels no fear at. Not for herself, and certainly not for Angela. Because she _knows_ the brunette. And she knows that deep down, she's not like this. The Jane Rizzoli she's spent the past few months getting acquainted with, is still the same Jane Rizzoli from sixteen years. Of that much, she is sure.

"He is not my father," she repeats, her hand tightening slightly. Angela goes to grip it, whimpering in the process as she continues, "no father of mine, the person I grew up with, would ever have raised a hand to his child, let alone stood by watching his only daughter get branded just because she told him she's gay!" she sneered. The Rizzoli matriarch just looked at her, eyes wide, fearful at the degree of temper displayed. "And while we're on the subject of fault here, let's look at the role you played. You call yourself a mother. But you too stood silently by. You didn't intervene, you didn't even protest. You're _only_ saving grace, the _only_ reason I got back into contact with you is because of the fact that you tried to keep Maura out of it afterwards.

That's it.

Beyond that, there's nothing.

So don't try and pretend to be my mother now, when you haven't been for years," she snarled, her voice defiant. "You think the impact Hoyt left was bad? Was the sort of thing that gave me nightmares? That infiltrated my dreams and broke me?" she whispered. "I'll tell you now...what you did, and he did, and your beloved church did is on par. It's equivalent. Can you imagine being compared to that monster?" By this time, tears were streaming down the older woman's face. "Would you like me to tell you about? To whisper it softly in your ear how I felt every nerve and tendon and muscle the moment he stuck the scalpels through my palms? How I felt them tear through me, how he used to whisper in my ear and mock me 'Janie, Janie...how much fun we're going to have together'," she breathed, mimicking him word for word, "how he ran a single finger down my cheek and his blue eyes glinted? How he ran his scalpel across my throat just to feel me shiver, just to feel me quiver with fear, how his demonic laughter filled my ears, surrounded me...or perhaps I should tell you of how I screamed blue murder when those scalpels went through my palms in much the same way I did when Father Romano pierced my skin with the cross that you warmed up while you stood behind closed doors all the while knowing exactly what was going to happen, did fuck all about it and let it happen. You remember, don't you," she whispered, her mouth going to her mother's ear. Angela simply stood there, shaking her head back and forth as if in refusal to acknowledge what had gone on that night.

Despite having heard the story once already, it doesn't stop the tears from filling Maura's eyes and flowing down her face. Her hand covers her mouth as she blinks away the graphic images Jane's description has created. Enough. After the week she's had - Hoyt making a re-appearance, being skirted off to Quantico, the small argument they had when it happened, Jane's disappearance, hours of searching for the brunette and finally the relief and complete and utter joy she felt when she was found, the complete re-hashing of their past - enough was enough. The last few days had been too much of an emotional roller coaster for her to even begin to process. It sounded selfish, she knew. But she also knew she had to act now, if not for the detective, then for Angela's own sanity at least. She was sure the woman wouldn't sleep for days after this, let alone be able to function. It was the stuff nightmares were made of.

She walked up to them, debating how she should go about intervening. Coming into a position where she knew the detective could at least see her from her periphery, she placed a hand just above the elbow of the arm that was still holding the older woman by the throat, and while it loosened, it didn't let go completely. Maneuvering herself under her arm, she bent slightly before going to stand between them, sandwiched between Jane and Angela. She placed her right hand on Jane's cheek, running her thumb back and forth to stroke it.

"Jane." The sudden feral, piercing black orbs, changed back to their normal chocolate colour as Jane blinked a couple of times, the sound of Maura's soft voice, laden with love and affection and tenderness and concern, bringing her back to the present. She registered Maura's scent, her hazel eyes boring into hers and she startled slightly. Maura just tightened her grip, cupping the face in front of her own still stroking. "Shhh...it's alright. I'm here. I'm here." The brunette let out a breath she never knew she had been holding before resting her forehead on Maura's, eyes closed. After giving it a moment, enjoying the connection, she decided to speak again. "Jane, Jane, I need for you to let go," she said, resting her hand on the arm that still had a hold on Angela. Jane's eyes shot open and her gaze went to the woman behind the blonde, as the words she said returned with a furious force. Words that should never have been said in the first place.

_Shit._

_Fuck._

Jane panicked. She felt the walls closing in on her as her lungs fought for air. The hand that had been holding the older woman fell, and she stepped back, fists clenched as she gazed at them in horror. "I...I...what...?" Maura's eyes widened. She could see immediately where this was going. Jane simply stared, backing further and further away. The ME stepped forward, trying to reach out to her but when she grasped her hand, she flinched, and turned, hightailing it out of the apartment, slamming the door so hard, it came off one of its hinges.

"Jane, wait!" she called, running after her. "Please!" She caught sight of unruly curls as they flashed round the corner of the banister a few floors down but when she finally made it to the entrance door, all she heard was a squeal of tires as the BPD-issued Lincoln disappeared round the corner leaving fresh tire marks on the road and her with one very overwrought and distressed Angela Rizzoli, who, when she got upstairs, had been reduced to a quivering, curled up, mess on the floor. Somehow, she managed to get the woman up off the floor and onto the couch before giving her a couple of butalbital to help her sleep. Torn between not knowing whether to call someone to come and collect Angela and going after Jane, she finally decided on the latter, seeing as the pills she had given her were strong enough to knock her out at least overnight. That left her with getting ride since she had originally come here with Jane and Jane had gone off with the only set of wheels they had between them. Picking up her phone, she quickly dialed a number, pleading quietly for them to pick up. Thankfully, on the fourth ring, they did.

"Barry? I need a ride."

* * *

**So. Do you think I did it justice? Was there enough angst and emotion? I don't know...sigh...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello all!**

**I can't believe it's been almost three months since I first started this story. Time seems to have just flown by.**

**I really appreciate of all the comments you took the time to leave for the last chapter. I admit I was a bit surprised. I thought at least some of you would be up in arms about Jane getting all violent and taking it to that extent with her mother with the whole hand wrapped round the throat thing. Some of you said 'hurrah' which made me laugh while a couple felt Angela deserved worse. I was aiming for something more on the extreme side which would mentally paralyze Angela demonstrating the effect her lack of action had on her daughter and sort of impress upon her the emotional scar she left as a result. I believe, from all of your positive comments, that it was to some extent anyway, achieved. Speaking of, Angela will be appearing in a later chapter. I won't cut her out of it just yet. Gotta keep the story going. ;)**

**Take care for now!**

* * *

Chapter 19

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Startled, Maura tore her gaze from the passenger window. She'd been so lost in her thoughts, she'd forgotten Frost had been sitting right beside her. He looked over at her quickly before his gaze went back to the road.

She contemplated his request.

On the one hand, she knew that Jane was inherently, a very private person but this was Frost; the boy she'd grown up with, gone through thick and thin with, and most importantly, one of the few she trusted. If there was ever a time for him to have her back, it would be now. He waited patiently to see if she would respond.

"Angela came by," she said, breaking the silence. Frost whistled through his teeth, both brows rising in the process.

"I'm guessing that didn't go too well."

Maura let out a rather unladylike snort. "That would be putting it mildly," she replied. She turned her head to once again stare out the window. "When will it stop?" she asked, in reference to the brunette's mother. Frost shrugged as he brought the car to a stop in front of the dilapidated building.

"When she lets go. When she stops hiding behind her religion. When she stops being in denial." She looked down, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her cream colored trousers.

"I don't know if she can wait that long," she answered honestly. She didn't need to close her eyes to recall the brunette's vicious fury, the scorn on Angela's face and later the terror that encompassed it. They both needed to deal with it. Angela in that, she needed to accept that she had been wrong, both that night and for every other time since the brunette had appeared back in her life and for Jane in starting to forgive; for them both to begin healing.

"Do you want me to wait?" The blonde cocked her head to one side in quiet consideration. Coming to a conclusion, she shook her head.

"No. But thank you nonetheless."

_For offering._

_For being here._

He nodded in understanding as she got out of the car and closed the door, only leaving once he saw her step through the doors.

* * *

The ME had half expected to be greeted with notes of some kind. Be it soft and melodious, angry and temperamental. What she hadn't been prepared for was complete and utter silence. But the thing that made her stomach drop, that made her gasp, that increased her worry and anxiety a notch higher than it already was, was the sight that lay before her:

The bar looked like a war zone.

Tables and chairs had been strewn and flung, left on the dusty floor, the mirror that had once adorned the wall at the side was smashed, the cracks running from inside out at various places, the jukebox now lay lying on it's side but what took her breath away the most was the bar counter. It had been hacked to pieces. Literally. And she suspected the accomplice was one lone lying chair, the remains of which lay splintered on it's side, the legs crooked and hanging on by a mere thread.

It was as if a demolition ball had torn through the place. Except, said demolition ball came in the form of Jane Rizzoli who now sat among the ruins, cross legged in one corner, holding a random piece of the war-torn bar. The only thing that remained almost reverently free from destruction was the spot where the piano stood. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place.

The music. If there was one thing the brunette took solace in, one thing that gave her comfort, it was the music. But for her to have lashed out the way that she had...apparently, for once,

_the music had not worked._

It had done nothing to soothe her soul, to temper her rage, to match the anger and her feelings. Which accounted for the destruction. It saddened the honey blonde. Maura carefully stepped over the shreds of wood and shards of glass as she made her way over to Jane. Ignoring the mess, she sat down beside her placing her bag on her other side, saying nothing. It was Jane who broke the silence first, her fingers picking at the tops of scars as if the scabs that had once formed were still there.

"Why are you here, Maura?"

"Because."

Jane snorted. "That line of reasoning stopped working with me when I was five." Maura allowed herself a small smile as the thought of a rambunctious five year old brunette, all sass and confidence and questions, filled her mind. "What I meant is, why are you _still_ here?"

_With me._

"Because I want to be." The detective sighed, her head going back to rest on the wall as she looked up at the ceiling. Maura chanced a glance, desperate to stop fidgeting hands.

Swiftly, she shifted, facing the brunette's side. "May I?" she asked, holding out her hand as she asked for permission to check the detective's. Wordlessly, she passed one over to the ME for inspection who cast a swift yet searching perusal over them, holding back the gasp of horror and tears that threatened. The brunette's palms were red and raw with small little punctures where splintering wood had entered leaving tiny angry welts in their place. Without saying a word, she searched her bag for the small make up bag she carried on hand, taking out the pair of tweezers she kept within. So intent she was in tending to injured hands that she missed the quirk of the eyebrow as the tweezers came out, the smallest hint of a lopsided smile as one corner of Jane's lips turned up and the barely held back eye roll. She flinched as she went to work on a particularly large piece that had become embedded in olive colored flesh.

The ME winced, apologetic. "Sorry." Jane shrugged. She continued for a while in silence, only deciding to speak when she changed to examine the other hand. "Back when I was at BCU and Garrett proposed, it wasn't so much the proposal that stunned me but rather the image that came before me as he got down on one knee." She paused for a moment to concentrate, pulling out the last one before looking up at the taller woman who was staring at her curiously. "It was you," she explained. The brunette frowned in an attempt to make a link. "You asked me why I was still here...It's because it was you I saw in front of me." Jane's eyes widened as comprehension dawned.

"You mean..." Maura flushed at her admission, nodding shyly. In an attempt to busy herself and avert her eyes from Jane's pondering gaze, she put the tweezers away, reaching once more for the brunette's hand before starting a light massage on her palms, avoiding the areas where the wood had pierced the brunette's skin. In spite of her admission, the silence that surrounds them is neither awkward nor unpleasant. "You didn't say yes." It was a fact.

The blonde shook her head. "I said I needed time. To think. He let me go and so, I went to see Mother who noticed my..." She paused for a moment thinking of how best to put the feeling she had felt but it was an act that proved to be unnecessary as Jane jumped in for her.

"Hesitation? Doubt? Indecision? Vacillation? Reluctance?"

Maura chuckled at the last two, choosing instead to stay more neutral.

"Perhaps," she conceded in reference to the first three. "In any case, it was only as I made my way back to campus that it occurred to me and it took me by surprise."

"What?"

At this, she lifted her eyes, meeting the chocolate orbs that she always seemed to lose herself in. "It occurred to me that it hadn't been so much the image of you that had thrown me but rather the realization of the expectation that it would always be you who would be before me."

* * *

The ride home had been quiet, each leaving the other to their own thoughts as if to give sense to the words that had been spoken. They had collapsed on the couch immediately after, exhausted from the events of the day. Maura snuggled in between the back of the couch and the detective who had been wandering an aimless hand up and down her arm as they watched a muted documentary; something about frogs. As weary as she was, she couldn't help but feel that there was something more on the brunette's mind.

"Jane?"

"Hmmm?" she asked, as she tried to distract herself with the bright, flashing images on the screen in an attempt to ignore the question weighing on her mind.

"Whatever it is that's bothering you, I just...whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'm here." She touched the brunette's chin lightly, forcing her to look down at her.

Jane sighed heavily. Only Maura could read her so well. "Where do you find the strength?" she questioned.

_To keep coming back. _

_To stay._

Propping herself up on her elbow, taking the hand that now rested on her waist and intertwining their fingers, she said, "The same place you found yours after what your parents did, after what happened with Hoyt."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"You." Maura tilted her head, confusion and puzzlement sparking behind her hazel eyes. "It was you," she clarified, "you were my strength. To keep going. To keep on."

A light flickered in Maura's eye as the brunette's word echoed loud and clear; amazement took hold. With a serene smile gracing her features, she lay back down, adopting her original position. The night turned quiet once again as the honey blonde processed. Her finger traced imaginary patterns on the detective's clavicle. Jane herself grew tired as the day's events caught up with her. Just as she found herself struggling to stay awake, to not close her eyes on the brink of a deep slumber, she heard it. She heard the whispered words of,

"You're mine too."

And just like that, she gave in.

She gave in, with a smile on her face.


	20. Chapter 20

**I got a really weird comment for this story from someone anonymous. It said 'same sex marriage means the death of romance' ... like really? First off, if you've actually read this story, you would know that the characters in it aren't even married. I myself hasn't gotten that far along into considering it but more importantly, your statement is completely invalid for the simple reason that, it doesn't make sense! Regardless of whether one is in a straight/gay relationship/marriage, the romance only dies out if you let it.**

**Ok, rant over. I think that the guest who posted the comment above somehow read my mind when they mentioned romance because this is just what this chapter is; romance. Or at least, it's based around it. I decided, after the last few chapters, that there was a need for something more lighthearted. And so, I present to you, the twentieth chapter (somewhat delayed I admit. Sorry!).**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 20

_She's sixteen again and she's stood in front of her massive wardrobe, a bundle of nervous energy as she hops from one foot to the other in an attempt to decide what to wear. She's going on a date. Or more specifically, she's going on a date with one Jane Rizzoli. Jane had asked her. And she'd said yes. It's taken quite a few times for her to make sure that she hadn't been dreaming, that she still wasn't._

_She recalls with perfect clarity the way Jane had asked her. It had been quite late after school and Maura Jane had offered to walk Maura home, and they had come to the gate outside Maura's home when she'd asked if she'd go on a date with her. She flushes as she recalls her reaction, or lack thereof. She'd just stood there, rather uncomprehendingly stunned into silence blinking at the brunette who after a period of absolute quiet had run a hand through her hair before shrugging it off uncomfortably. It had only been when she'd turned to go, saying that she'd see her at school tomorrow that the clockworks within her mind had resumed work and she'd managed a rather squeaky yes. She only blushes deeper in memory of it._

_Only now, as she looks over her wardrobe choices, she's not quite sure what she was thinking at the time her mouth decided to squeak out the positive response. Because despite the fact that this is all she's ever wanted since she set eyes on the lanky Italian, she has absolutely nothing to wear. And to be perfectly honest, it's starting to freak her out. In all the scenarios she'd ever thought about when she used to play daydreams in her head and plan what she would wear, she realizes now she overlooked one aspect of attire; casual. Which is the only clue Jane would give when she'd asked._

_She finally settles for a white off the shoulder lace top with three-quarter sleeves, dark blue skinny jeans and beige pumps with just the slightest tinge of make-up and a small silver bracelet when the doorbell goes. And so does all hints of her composure. And before she knows it, she's rushing to answer the door. And while she has not quite come to terms with the fact that the two of them are going out on an actual date, it occurs to her that that should have been the least of her concerns. Because the moment she opens the door, it strikes her that what she should have been concerned about is the girl before her. Because the sight before her causes her to lose all thought of...everything._

_She's not religious. But the first thought that hits her mind just happens to be so._

_Holy Mary mother of..._

_Her jaw drops._

_The girl standing on her doorstep is stunning. Clad in black skinny jeans, what appears to be a black vest top, black boots and a black leather jacket slung over her shoulder, curls down and chocolate irises staring back at her, she is the ultimate definition of bad ass and drop dead gorgeous all combined into one._

_"You look amazing. Are you ready to go?"_

_Oh, and that voice..._

_She comes round from her slight stupor to find the brunette smirking at her as her gaze roams unashamedly over the brunette's form, finally stilling on the taller girl's eyes__. She seems to be waiting. For...something. It only occurs to her then, that the brunette had said something...asked...something, and that she's waiting expectantly for an answer. But she has no idea what it was._

_"I'm sorry, what did you say?"_

_There's a slight chuckle before the Italian leans forward, grasping her hand and repeats the question right in her ear, alongside the compliment. A shiver runs down the blonde and her eyes involuntarily close._

_She's overwhelmed; by the smokiness of that voice, the image of the lanky girl that flits around in her head, the closeness and heat she can feel emanating from the brunette and __the scent of lavender and something else that's purely Jane__. She swallows as the beginnings of Jane's raspy tone fill but one of her five senses._

_"I just had to say how absolutely sensational you look and I wanted to know if you were ready to go."_

_She doesn't think she can find her voice. Not after that. Not without making a fool out of herself once more. So she simply blushes and nods and Jane offers her her hand as she goes to grab a light jacket. It's only after the door has closed and they're walking down the driveway towards the brunette's bike that the right words finally come._

_Always, she thinks...always..._

* * *

Maura Isles stood in front of her vast array of dresses as she ran a critical eye over her clothing. It was their first date. Or rather, it was their first date as adults. Despite the years that have passed and what she hopes is the relative maturity that came with it, she feels as though she were sixteen again, all butterflies and energy, as she got ready for her very first date with Jane. She can't help but recognize that exactly sixteen years ago, she had been stood in the exact same position; clad in a bra and panties as she decided what to wear. Albeit, she's a bit calmer now as she carefully assesses her choices although to be honest, she's still recovering from the shock of being asked. And those damned nerves don't seem to want to tamper down.

It has only been a few days since Angela Rizzoli turned up and Jane lashed out but that day, something had changed within the brunette. She could see it as clear as day. She seemed...lighter, free-er, more relaxed; much more like the old Jane she once knew; untroubled and unburdened. Maura giggled as she recalled the way the brunette had blown in through the doors of the morgue, a skip to her step, coffee in hand, done exactly to the ME's tastes and a blueberry muffin, Maura's favorite, coffee-colored eyes twinkling. She had just come from upstairs where Korsak had repeatedly assured her that no damage had been done; to their partnership, friendship or his uncle's beloved bar which had taken another load off the brunette's well lumbered shoulders making her even more at ease.

.

.

.

_Jane watched as Korsak strolled in a little after the start of their work day. She hadn't heard a peep from him since she'd called to explain what she had done to his bar, the havoc she had wreaked. Even though Maura had offered to make the phone call, she had refused to let the blonde. It had been her mess, therefore, her responsibility. But it didn't help that he hadn't said a word about it since. And that was two days ago. He'd had two whole days to say something. She swore he was deliberately keeping her on tenterhooks just to see how long she would hold out._

_"Morning all," he greeted chirpily as he breezed past Jane's desk as if he had not a care in the world. _

_Rather too chirpily in fact, she thought. _

_Her eyes narrowed and followed him surreptitiously as he ambled over to his own desk, draped his jacket over his chair and plopped down. He reached for his cup which someone had so 'thoughtfully' filled (or rather done so in repentance) and breathed deeply as he inhaled the rich aroma of fresh coffee, dark and black, just the way he liked it, before taking a sip. Settling back in his chair, his eyes closed as he took in the rich taste of his morning sustenance. It was heaven. However, he was quickly jolted out of his reverie by the sound of a low growl and the outburst of an,_

_"Ok, enough already!" from one Jane Rizzoli. The crumpled ball of paper she held in her hand was thrown on her desk in frustration, bouncing off and hitting the floor. Patience never had been her thing. In fact, he was more than mildly surprised that she had lasted so long. He opened one eye, shooting her a bemused expression, taking note of Frost's bewildered state._

_"You're fairly up and at em' this morning, Rizzoli. What's the matter? Not enough paperwork?" She glowered at him in response. Frost snorted as he eyed the ever growing pile that sat in front of her. However, a quick glare in his direction sobered him soon enough as he feigned interest in other things._

_"C'mon, Korsak, let me have it. What's the damage?" He had to hand it to her. When it came to taking into hand wrongdoings that were her fault and her fault alone, she was not one to shy away. It was not a trait he'd seen in many given his profession. He gave in. He was not a cruel man after all. But boy, was it fun to see Rizzoli squirm. He put down his cup as his computer came to life._

_"Nothing." She sat there trying to determine whether or not he was simply stringing her along. "I'm serious," he said, seeing her squinting at him. "In fact, you did me a favor. Got rid of that god-awful bar for a start. And the place was looking cleaner than it had done in years."_

_"You can't be serious."_

_He shrugged. "Guy came in. Took a look around the place. Said that since there was no structural damage and that there was nothing to dismantle or tear apart, costs would be a lot lower. So you see," he teased, "sometimes anger does wonders if you put it to good use."_

_God, if looks could kill..._

_He held back a chuckle._

_Her eyes roved for any tell-tale expression that he was lying or at the very least evading. There was nothing. Deciding to take him at his word, she let out the breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding. "Thank god for that," she said._

_"Nice coffee by the way. Shoulda made you sweat for a bit longer. Maybe then you would've added a doughnut to the mix."_

_She scowled at her old partner, choosing not to respond. Instead, she lent down to collect the crumpled ball of paper at the foot of her desk before getting up and stretching. Long frames were definitely not made for BPD chairs that had been bought on the cheap. It was time for her morning visit to see Maura. "I'm going down to the morgue." Korsak and Frost merely grinned. The morgue had recently become Jane's favorite place to hide out, especially where paperwork was concerned._

_"Oh, by the way, Janie," the older detective called out. She stopped for a moment, turning to look back at him. "If you're ever in need of a second career, you should look into the demolition business. It's amazing what you can do with only a chair," he said as the two of them got caught up in fits of laughter after seeing the look she gave._

_Her only response as she rolled her eyes was the tossed crumpled ball of paper that she aimed at them before stalking out._

_Children, she thought._

_._

_._

_._

Maura looked down at her watch. Twenty minutes. She did a double take. _Twenty minutes! I haven't even chosen what to wear yet, let alone applied my make-up!_ Frazzled went beyond what she felt now. Oh goodness, she really was sixteen again. She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself. _First things first: find a dress._

As her gaze once again roved over the many chic designer items, she found herself stopping on one dress in particular. It was a deep, rich emerald green one shoulder dress that stopped just above the knee. She'd bought it in one of the New York boutiques while she had been at a conference there. It had been just before she'd returned to Boston, the elegance and stitching catching her eye but had yet to wear it. It was perfect. And Jane had always loved her in green; she said it brought out the color of her eyes and made her honey blonde hair standout. _Yes, this was the dress_.

She just finished applying the last of her make-up when she heard the doorbell go.

_That will be Jane._

Fluffing up the last of her curls, she slipped on her nude colored heels and purse and headed downstairs to open the door.

* * *

If she'd thought herself to have been any more prepared by the sight that beheld her sixteen years later, she was wrong. The woman before her took her breath away, and once more, she found herself speechless. Jane was dressed in a form fitting three quarter pants that showed off her long legs and lanky form, a green satin blouse that highlighted her olive tone and a black blazer. Her hair was down and on her feet, a pair of black heels were adorned; ankles crossed, hand in pocket, while the other lent on the door jam gave her an intimidating but absolutely smoking presence as dark brown eyes appraised her.

_Breathe, Maura, breathe._

The brunette on her part was unashamedly running her gaze up the ME's never-ending legs, well-toned from the years she had spent doing yoga and wearing equally sheer high heels to the curves that the dress seemingly fit itself to like a second skin, passing over blonde honey colored curls before finally meeting significantly darker hazel orbs.

_Shit. The woman was captivating._

The detective cleared her throat.

"You look..." _good enough to eat..._ "unequivocally stunning." A light pink blush spread across the ME's cheeks. Even sixteen years later, the brunette still had the ability to make her feel butterflies. She averted her eyes, casting them downwards.

"Thank you." She ran her hands over her dress smoothing out invisible wrinkles. "You look quite alluring yourself."

"Are you ready to go?" The ME cast her gaze upwards again, drinking in Jane's form, question long forgotten as she did so. When she reached Jane's chocolate orbs, she blushed at the smirk the detective was giving her, eyebrow pointedly raised.

"I err..."

"It's funny how some things never change." Jane chuckled lightly as the flush on Maura's cheeks deepened. The implication of what had happened on their very first date as teenagers failed to bypass either adult; they both remembered it with astounding clarity.

In an attempt to gain some semblance of control, she reached behind the door for the white shawl she had hanging on the hook, only then remembering that she had left her purse on the kitchen island. "Just let me grab my purse." Items in hand, she locked the door, trying not to focus too much on the closeness in stance of the brunette, the body heat that ran between them and the very clear vibes of flirtation that teetered on the edge.

Key safely secured, Jane closed whatever distance that remained between them. "Ready?" she asked, offering the blonde her arm.

_Two can play at this game, Jane Rizzoli, _she thought, gathering herself for the night ahead.

"Always," she replied, linking her arm through the brunette's. "Always."

* * *

**Stay tuned guys! I'm not very good at this romance malarky so any help/pointers you wish to give will always be useful. In the meantime, I'll try and churn out the next chapter in significantly less time than it took me to do this one!**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


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